


There Will Be Seven Part I: Introduction to Revolution

by LLE Veid (numrockz)



Series: There Will Be Seven [3]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5177132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numrockz/pseuds/LLE%20Veid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nipple Dippers aren't sure what to make of Bob Waite's sister. Is she really just someone looking for a way out of City College or just another pawn to Stephen Spreck's plot to destroy Greendale?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. November 1, 2015, 18:50 hrs

**Author's Note:**

> This follows the events in Seven People Walk into The Vatican

**There Will Be Seven:**

**Introduction to Revolution**

The ticking from the wall clock has slowed, and Jeff feels his heart beat with each heavy movement of the second hand until both time and, for a moment, his heart, stop.

 

Abed found Summer in front of him after a quick scan around the table, and they’ve been staring at each other for a minute, their body language not denying attraction.

 

Summer’s bag slips off her shoulder as she inches closer.

Abed intently studies her face.

Her breathing is stilted and labored.

 

“What’s happening?” Craig Pelton loudly whispers to Jeff.

“I think they’re doing internal voice overs.” Jeff whispers back.

“Summer doesn’t do that. She plays soundtracks in her head.” Bob joins in.

 

Craig Pelton raises his eyebrows. An idea rocket had just taken off in his head.

 

“Your name’s Summer?” Abed finally speaks, the spell still unbroken. Jeff recognizes his smolder in Abed’s voice.

“It’s Jennifer.” Her voice still clipped but dropped a register.

“Whatever your name is, you look like the girl of my dreams.”

 

Jeff expects Summer to wince at this, but she holds her ground.

Bob fidgets in his seat.

 

“You must be Abed.” A smile creeps up the corner of her lips.

“And ‘Summer’?” He asks.

“A lot of the Browncoats at school call me that. They tell me I look –“

“Like River Tam?”

“ _Firefly_ ’s my favorite show.“ She says, her voice dropping a few registers more.

“And Summer Glau’s the girl of my dreams.”

“Funny. You read like a Kaylee person.”

“Kaylee’s my reality. That doesn’t mean you can’t be.”

 

She licks her lips, then casts a sideways glance at Jeff.

“Are you, uh, enrolled at Greendale?”

“Should I be?”

 

The Nipple Dippers watch Summer and Abed’s elaborate sidestepping.

 

_What the hell is he DOING all googley eyed on this girl when we’re right here?!?!?_

Abed grins at Jeff from over Summer’s shoulder.

 

Everybody around the table erupts. Frankie is finally unglued to her seat. Britta runs around the table to give Abed a hug. Craig Pelton slides off the table to fall in line for Abed’s welcoming hug party.

 

Jeff bristles.

 

Abed comes home, and the first person he feels the need to talk to is an outsider?

 

“Where’s Annie?” Came Frankie’s question.

 

_Where’s Annie?!!_

_She’s not with him?_

_Jeff abruptly turns around and scans the area near the door._

_Maybe she’s still outside, left with the luggage, and she’s the one lugging them into The Vatican._

_He better check –_

 

“Shut it, Pelton.”

“She’s not here.” Abed says.

 

He beams at Craig Pelton, and they shake hands…

 

…Abed’s hand slides up, and Craig Pelton mirrors his movement.

 

They drop them in fists at the same time, bumping them onto each other on the second fall, following through to each other’s shoulders, and giving each other a squeeze on the butt cheek.

 

Craig Pelton covers his mouth as he gasps and stumbles into his seat beside Jeff. Abed studies his hand and then looks at Craig Pelton in wonder.

 

“Where’s Annie, Abed?” Jeff finally stands up and grabs Abed by the shoulder.

“She’s not here.”

“Annie’s not coming home?” Britta asks, sincerely concerned.

“What?!” Jeff was already shaking Abed.

“Where’s Annie, Abed?” Frankie asks again.

“I just said she’s not here twice. Stop shaking me, Jeff. I’m jetlagged and my brain hurts.”

 

Jeff finally comes to. He’s beside himself with everything that’s going on.

 

Bob and Summer Waite are still in the room with them.

Craig Pelton just got a cooler secret handshake from Abed.

Abed arrives from Chicago.  


…And Annie’s not with him.

 

This was not the deal…

 

But it’s half of it, and he should still be happy. Abed will tell them what happened…wouldn’t he?

 

Jeff calms down.

 

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m really sorry. It’s just – it’s been too long.”

 

Jeff looks Abed in the eye then reels him in.

 

_“God I missed him…so much.”_

_Jeff holds Abed a little tighter than he’d intended to._

_Four months of bottled-up anticipation and Abed finally comes home to unscrew the cork._

Bob, Summer, and the other Nipple Dippers grimaced at Craig Pelton.

 

“Really?” Jeff releases Abed and scowls at Craig Pelton.

“Was that too much? Too much? Okay.” Craig Pelton steps back.

 

Jeff tries to get back to Abed’s welcome hug.

 

“It’s awkward now.” Abed says, flatly.

“Yeah.” Jeff gives him a lopsided smile.

“Welcome home, buddy.” He points at Abed. Abed connects his finger with Jeff’s, and he smiles at him. Jeff tries but fails to disguise the lump in his throat.

 

The rest of the Nipple Dippers burst into a collective ‘awwwww’ and huddle in for a group hug.

 

To Summer, this is strange.

 

The dynamic in the room shifted when this man walked into the room. The edge around Jeff Winger softened, and when that happened the others seemed awash with great relief and...what was it? Love?

 

There was love in the room. It was bordering on creepy, but there it was.

 

She wondered who Annie was and how different all of that would be if she walked into the room with Abed.

 

She looks back at Bob, and he seems to be taking all the love in the room a bit differently. She’s not one to revel in sop, but she’s not there to tarnish it either.

 

Something tells her she should drag Bob out of The Vatican before he gets any ideas.

 

Summer makes eye contact with her brother and jerks her head towards the door.

 

“Summer.”

 

Abed calls after her.

When Bob and Summer turned around, they were almost out the door. Her eyes were on Jeff.

 

“I’m not free this Saturday, Abed…”

 

She’s waiting for him.

 

Though still hesitant, Jeff concedes and nods at Summer.

 

“…but I’ll see you soon.” She said before they walked out.

 

They watch them disappear out the door.

 

Abed pointed to it.

 

“That was Bob. Were you in the middle of a grift?”

“Yup. And I’m going on a date with Summer.” Britta seemed proud of it, then not so.

“Chang’s not here.”

“Oh. Ben? _Chief Starr and the Raiders of the Galaxy_ has actually gone viral in Colorado, and some L.A. hotshot who caught wind of it sent a limo for Ben Chang to star in a Bradley Cooper superhero movie as a sidekick. Bradley Cooper personally insisted he wanted Ben Chang for the part. Can you believe he finally agreed to do it?” Craig Pelton eagerly reported.

“Bradley Cooper?”

“No. Ben Chang. There have been several limos driving into Greendale in the past couple of months, but he’s just turning them down. He was waiting for you, but you never came like Jeff said you would. He’s missing Annie, especially.”

 

Abed was silent all of a sudden.

Craig Pelton realizes his mistake.

Britta frowned at Craig Pelton.

 

“What about Annie?” Frankie asked again.

“Are you comfortable with this? My head’s spinning. I want to go home.” Abed points at each and every one of them.

“Slumber party? Slumber party? Slumber party? Slumber party?”

 

Craig Pelton shimmies.

Britta does her awkward dance.

Frankie shakes her head with regret.

 

“I’m sorry. My sister’s condition prevents me from participating in fun stuff you guys do beyond 7 p.m. unless it’s an emergency.” Her words now slobbering with regret.

 

“I can step in for a minute, though?” She adds. Abed smiles, and they all head for the door.

 

Jeff wraps an arm around Abed. Craig Pelton follows close behind. “Shotgun!”

 

Jeff scowls at him.

 

“Orrrr not. I’m riding with Frankie and Britta. Yayyyyyy…” Craig Pelton sarcastically yips as he slows down and clumsily pivots his way back to the two women.

 

“Okay, you’ve got to tell me something about ‘the twins’. Jeff keeps calling them that like a lunatic in these monologues.” Frankie whispers to Craig Pelton loudly, which clearly has become their thing now, after she’s sure that they’re out of earshot.

 

“Haven’t you been reading the ‘Grams, Frankie?” Britta shakes Craig Pelton’s phone at Frankie.

“The twins. You know? Luke and Leia.” Craig Pelton says matter-of-factly.

 

Frankie shoots blanks at him.

 

“ _Star Wars_?” Craig Pelton looks at her like she’s stupid, for the first time.

“You mean the incest twins?”

“No, I meant the twins that tried to eat each other in vitro. OF COURSE IT’S THE INCEST TWINS. Are there any other twins in _Star Wars_?”

“There’re lots of them, actually.” Britta began, but eventually caught herself.

“I Yahoo! stuff, okay?”

 

Craig Pelton rolls his eyes.

 

“Jeff’s been trying to figure out what their ‘thing’ was and finally figured it out.”

“’Thing’?” Frankie asks.

“You know? The ‘thing’? Like Troy and Abed…oh wait…Oh this is so hard to explain.”

“You mean ‘chemistry’?” Frankie gambles.

“Yyyeeeeeeeeeenot quite.” Craig Pelton crumples his face.

 “You know, when you look at them and sometimes you cringe because they’re getting to be cute together that it’s creepy even when it shouldn’t be…this is so hard to explain with you not knowing Troy and Abed.”

 

Frankie’s face finally displays recognition.

 

“Oh, that…I was wondering what that thing was with them…it’s weird, right? I mean…it’s me who’s weird. I can’t help feeling that way.”

“You two should excavate your white butts from your racist past. This is the New World, people. They have learned to coexist without getting at each other’s throats. It’s perfectly normal for a half-Palestinian guy to sneak into the room of a Jewish girl he knows to film her in her sleep in the middle of the night.”

 

Meanwhile, outside…

 

“Are you going to tell me where Annie is, or is your silence telling me that she’s not coming back?”

 

Jeff finally asks.

 

“I didn’t say she’s not coming back. I said she’s not here.”

“Then where is she?”

“In Chicago.”

“And?”

“She’s pregnant.”

“WHAT?!??!”

 

Back inside The Vatican…

 

“WHAT?!??!” Craig Pelton covers his mouth. Frankie is really worried.

 

Britta looks like she’s going to cry.

 

“Oh my god…I tried really hard to make sense of that but I can’t. I tried to look at it from different angles, but it’s so creepy that Annie knows and she’s fine with it. There’s consent. It’s okay right? It’s supposed – who am I kidding? It’s so weird…it’s so, so weird.”

 

She fans her eyes with her hands, and the two reach out from a distance to comfort her with pats on the shoulder.

 

Outside, with Jeff and Abed…

 

Abed blinks at Jeff.

 

“You believed that?”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“You remember that cat in _Alien_?”

“The jump scare?”

“That’s what that was. This conversation is getting stale, Jeff. What did you want to get out of your questions? I’m guessing the same as everyone else. Let’s go home. Then I’ll tell everyone about Annie and Chicago. I don’t want to repeat myself in this condition. In the mean time, I’m thinking of luring Frankie in with a blanket fort.”

“You know she has a sister with special needs, right, Abed? She needs to be home.”

 

He catches himself pulling Abed into reality again.

 

“Then maybe her sister will enjoy the inside of the blanket fort, too. You haven’t met her, have you?”

 

Jeff clenched his teeth, not quite sure what to make of this incarnation of Abed.

 

But Abed is caring. He’s starting to care about Frankie, too.

 

“Okay.” He says, opening the door to the passenger seat and letting Abed in.

 

Back in The Vatican…

 

Britta waves at Frankie and Craig Pelton as they leave because her boss reeled her in after catching her trying to slip out.

 

Jeff was just pulling away from the curb when they’d stepped out.

 

“I think Abed’s creepiness is spilling onto Jeff, as well.” Frankie assesses as she opens the door to her car.

 

Craig Pelton shrugs this off.

 

“It took Jeff Winger six years to care, so…”

“What is it with this group of people? I feel so out of place without Annie here, and now she’s not coming back.”

 

She starts the car and waits for it to warm up. Craig Pelton takes pause and then clears his throat.

 

“Do you like Annie, Frankie?”

“Yeah.”

 

Frankie faces Craig Pelton and recognizes a question mark she’d been seeing on men’s faces. She sighs.

 

“My sexuality is a myth that Jeff Winger created to explain why I’m not head-over-heels with him as he’s used to with other women. You know the situation at home, Craig. I can’t afford distractions…and Jeff Winger’s exactly the type with whom I could be extremely distracted.”

“And that is?”

“He’s a reasonably aged man who knows what he wants and gets results…sometimes…he’s like that sometimes… recently he’s into overdrive…Haven’t you read _Fifty Shades of Gray_?”

 

Craig Pelton raises his hands and looks out the window as Frankie pulls out.

 

“And besides, anyone can tell he’s really into Annie. He’s ready for Greendale Annie, not a full-grown Annie. He’s forty-one and his definition of ‘head’ is still stuck in his penis.”

“Ohohohohoooooookay. We get it.”

“It’s been six years, and some of them are enrolled for longer, and it appears that they don’t have any intention leaving. Everyone in that school is in suspended animation, Craig. Each and every student is willing to go along with this, and so is the faculty. And what is this obsession with paintball? It’s not only Jeff that’s become mentally unhealthy. It’s everyone. And if Annie’s really coming back, then so is she.”

 

Craig Pelton tries to keep calm, a little offended but affable.

 

“Okay, this is something that you don’t understand about the school that Jeff has kindly entrusted to you to take care of with him. Greendale will never leave you because that’s just the way it is. It’s a school that gives hope to misfits like Abed or rejects like Jeff, and it sucks you in like a very comfortable, worn out couch. It’s a friend that laughs at you when you poop your pants but defends you to the death when someone who’s not does. Nobody’s ready to leave it behind because it’s the first place that anybody has ever felt really welcome. It’s not perfect, but it’s home to most of them, if not all. Now why would you want to leave home when it’s like that?”

 

Frankie slows down.

 

“You don’t.”

“For growth. You want to grow…but when the conditions out there are too harsh, you know you have a place to come back to where you feel safe. You know that even when you’re out there, someone will still be here, looking out for you.”

 

Frankie clenches her jaws, trying to hold her emotions at bay.

 

“Look, I’m not always a fountain of wisdom, but I’m telling you, let Greendale be itself and just give it a little nudge when it’s starting to hurt itself or something. It’s not forcing you to be someone else, is it?”

 

Craig Pelton looks at her. He’s serious and sincere, pointing at his heart, then his head.

 

“Trust me, wherever you are, Greendale will never leave you because it’s the first place you’ve ever felt welcome your whole life.”

“Craig…I –“

 

Frankie’s welling up.

 

“Oh, were you impressed by that? Thank god. I was preparing that ditty for after graduation and when I get reinstated as the dean. I mean, I like seeing Jeff in his $6,000 three-piece suit everyday, but ooh lordy, the heart can only take so much …”

 

Craig Pelton quietly chuckled and returns to gazing dreamily out the window.

 

They drove in silence.

 

Frankie’s affected by Craig Pelton’s speech.

 

When she’d walked into that study room, she thought she had everything figured out. The job doesn’t pay much, but it’s extra. She’ll breeze through this in a semester.

 

She thought she’d seen every school, and she will know what needed fixing. But this was a school that did not want to be fixed.

 

It miffed her.

 

Or maybe that was the deep seated frustration she’s having with a sister that she knew she couldn’t fix.

 

But everyone at Greendale understood that, and they did not pressure her into getting results like everyone else did. There are laws in America that understood her situation and somehow this school of crazy people is the only one that upholds them despite their ignorance of them.

 

And besides she’s never had friends before.

 

It seems the Winger effect is real...and frankly not that bad.

 

Craig Pelton’s phone rings.

 

“It’s Jeffrey. He’s telling us to go get your sister.”

“What?”

“You heard me. We’re taking your sister to a slumber party.”

 

Frankie steps on the brake.

 

“FRANKEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”

 

Craig Pelton screams as he clenches at his chest.

 

“I thought I was going to die there for a second.”

“Wh – are – I –“

 

She couldn’t hold it in. She leaned onto the wheel and let out a really disturbing honk. Craig Pelton was about to tell her that she’s leaning into the horn of the car when he realizes that it’s just how she cries.

 

He’s a little embarrassed, but he undoes his seatbelt and reaches across to comfort her.

 

“I wanted to go to that slumber party so baaaaaaaaaaad.”

“We know.”

“And my sister hasn’t been invited to one like ever in her life.”

“We know.”

“This is the best night of my life.”

“And knowing Abed, it’s going to get better.”

 

Frankie falls into Craig Pelton as he comforts her.

 

“There, there frigid hag. There, there.”

 

Meanwhile, Jeff stands in front of the door to Apartment 303. Abed’s waiting, but Jeff’s a little giddy.

 

“Are you ready, buddy?” He says, grinning like his life depended on it.

“Yes, Jeff.”

“Okay!”

 

Jeff inserts the key to the apartment and opens it wide for Abed to see.

 

Abed steps in and stands there for a moment, taking everything in…

 

…Then he does what Jeff never expects him to do…

 

He brays.

 

“Hah. Hah. Not funny, Abed.”

 

Abed clenches at his clothing as he continues braying. He slams his foot on the door.

 

“Abed…?” Jeff’s grin falls to nervous teeth-gritting.

 

Abed convulses and falls to the ground.

 

“Are you improvising again?”

 

Abed brays as he writhes and shakes his head. He clenches at it and starts hitting it.

 

No. This is serious.

 

He’s having a meltdown.

 

Jeff hurriedly throws in every bag that Abed brought, apparently including Annie’s, and quickly shut the door.

 

He dials Craig Pelton.

 

“Where are you?”

“We’re on our way…what’s that sound?”

“Abed’s having a meltdown.”

“SAME! EVERYTHING’S THE SAME!”

 

He hears Craig Pelton echo his message to Frankie. There was a faint sound of screeching tires and Frankie barking choppy, digitized commands at him.

 

“Frankie says…to keep him away from sharp corners. Move the furniture if you must…She says you should find something soft for his head. Is he convulsing?”

“He’s hitting himself on the head.”

“Frankie says keep his hands from doing that. Don’t lock him down…just push his hand away whenever he does.”

 

Jeff is trying his best to calm down as he complies.

 

He hears the screeching of the tires from a distance…

Then a clamoring of metal on the curb…

He hears the front door kicked in and a pair of heels echoing through flights of stairs.

Frankie rushes in through the door and falls beside Abed, still braying and hitting himself.

 

“EVERYTHING’S THE SAME! IT’S THE SAAAAME! IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!"

 

Frankie gently pushes Abed’s hands away from him when he starts to hit himself. She pulls him closer to calm him down. Abed clings on to her, nails almost digging into her flesh, but she keeps calm.

 

Abed stops braying and buries his face in her.

 

Craig Pelton finally enters the room with Frankie’s sister.

 

“How is he?”

“Just a little more.” Frankie says, almost to herself.

 

When they held meetings on Abed’s and Annie’s return, Jeff appointed Frankie to handle all Abed affairs whenever Annie’s not around. It seems he made the right decision.

 

If he’d selfishly left himself in charge, he would probably be having a meltdown there with him.

 

He spots Frankie’s sister and entertains her as Craig Pelton scans through the shelves for Abed’s hot cocoa mix.

 

“Craig, he can’t have that.”

 

Craig Pelton gets a glass of water.

 

Abed is sitting up when Craig Pelton walked over to them.

 

“Abed, what was that about?” Frankie frankly asked him.

 

Abed looked around again, a little disoriented, but calm, almost stoic.

 

“Everything’s the same.”

 

Jeff sat Frankie’s sister down.

 

“We tried to keep the place intact for when you come back.”

“Britta was supposed to mess up…I prepared myself for that. Not this.”

 

Frankie and Craig Pelton help him up.

 

“I was forced to adapt to a lot of changes in Chicago. Annie was patient when I had these almost every day during the first two weeks. If I had been with anybody else, Chicago would have been a disaster.”

 

Abed smiles as he looks around and spots Frankie’s sister. He comes over to greet her, and everything was fine again.

 

Jeff and Craig Pelton scours the apartment for sheets while Abed chats up Frankie and her sister.

 

When the blanket fort had been set and the pillows fluffed up, they settled down and Abed tells them of tales of Annie and Abed in Chicago.

 

Abed tells them of their eight weeks in improv class at The Second City, and how they’d enjoyed it so much they decided to take another one, which was why they took longer than they anticipated. They’d gone to Lollapalooza. They’d watched a dozen Cubs games. They’d gone to one where they were a stone’s throw away from Bill Murray. They’d gone to see Hanson in concert just to see if it really was them and enjoyed themselves.

 

Abed told their story like he’d never left Riverside.

 

So it was over in thirty seconds.

 

“Wow…I mean…It won’t fit in one Twitter post, but...really? Annie would have spent the whole night telling stories.” Jeff squinted at Abed.

“She’s not here because we took an internship at the FBI.” Abed said, matter-of-factly.

“’We’? YOU took an internship at the FBI?”

“Was that sarcasm? You can’t believe I could get an internship at the FBI? I’m a computer, Jeff. They kidnap people like me to work for them.”

 

That shut him up.

 

“You kept texting about all the upgrades at Greendale, we felt the pressure. I know Annie bluffed she would be doing her internship in Washington, but she got in easily in Chicago. She felt it a better environment to train in, too. She realized she liked the grit. She didn’t want to leave me alone at home, so she took me there for fun, but we both got in.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been reading my texts, but you didn’t even bother to answer?”

 

Abed’s oblivious that that pissed him off.

 

“Yeah. We read everything. Including those pages Craig Pelton posted on Facebook.”

“And?”

“We literally didn’t know what to say. When I said ‘be ready’, I meant ‘emotionally ready’, but this…this was more than I – we could have hoped for. We would come home, and everything would be ready for us…but what about us? We were going to Rickroll City College on their foundation day. That’s the level of crazy we were in. But you thought of something better. So Annie has a few more days left in combat training --”

“Combat training?!?” Frankie coughed out.

“Yeah. Jeff texted he was doing parkour classes. You know how she is. She gets competitive. You wouldn’t want to play punchies with her. Even Jeff’s biceps won’t stand a chance.”

 

Abed takes his hoodie off and lifts his sleeves.

 

There were healing bruises on his arms.

 

Craig and Frankie cringed. Jeff didn’t know how to react. He’s envisioning Xena the Warrior Princess kicking down the door instead of Annie coming home.

 

“What did you do?” Frankie asked.

“Recon. They called me ‘Arrgh to DITU’ because they really don’t get my references though they’re mostly kind because of Annie. They like Annie…or scared of her. I can’t compete with Annie in hand-to-hand combat, but we’ve become pretty good shots.”

“But you don’t do parkour.” Jeff looks around the blanket fort, gloating.

 

“We don’t, but you’d want to see Annie do her laser tripwire security dodging routine. It’s been one of the highlights of my stay in Chicago. The boys at the HQ were playing with her when they told her it’s homework. Then the guys tell me to film her while she’s doing it. She strips to her skivvies quite often.”

 

Jeff visibly gulped. Frankie raises her eyebrows and looks at Craig Pelton.

 

“Abed!”

 

They didn’t realize Britta had snuck into the fort.

 

“Hey Britta.”

“You realize that’s sexual harassment, right?”

“I didn’t say I did it.”

“But you still took advantage of her?”

“’Homework’ is a trigger word for Annie. Once she hears it, she’ll obsess over it, and then she’ll do it. It’s Annie’s ‘thing’. You don’t mess with ‘thing’s, otherwise you’ll break people. I woke up one night trying to get a glass of water, then when I opened the door there was yarn everywhere. It’s happened ever since, so we made a deal. We have Tripwire Tuesdays. She lets me set up her playground. That way I determine how much space she can cover. She would want to do that here, too, so never agree to setting her ball of yarn up unless I’m here. Otherwise you need to have a bottle to pee in ready.”

“Can we have another slumber party when she comes home?”

 

Jeff croaked.

Abed winks as he points at Jeff and clicks his tongue. Then he turns to Britta.

 

“Thanks for looking after the apartment, Britta.”

 

Frankie’s sister had curled up beside Abed. He puts his arm around her.

 

“She likes you, Abed.” Frankie smiles.

“Me, too.” Abed nods.

“How is she with sugar?” He asks Frankie.

“Not at this time, Abed.”

 

Abed rubs her shoulder. “We’ll have my Special Drink some other time, okay?”

“Okay.” Frankie’s sister says.

“Sorry about those, Frankie.” He pointed at the nail marks on her arm.

“This is nothing. I deal with these things every day.”

“Have you ever thought of enrolling her at Greendale? She can maybe take pottery or tap dance classes.” Abed looks at Frankie’s sister.

 

Frankie looks at Abed and then at Craig Pelton, and then at Jeff. He smiles and shrugs.

 

It was warm inside the blanket fort, and when everyone looked around they knew they were glad to be there. They were thankful that Abed came home.

 

“Abed, about Summer --” Jeff segued.  
“Jennifer Riley. She’s Bob Waite’s sister. She teaches Asian Cinema at City College.”

“Taught.”

“Teaches.”

“You know that?”

“Frankie sent me her findings before Summer even left The Vatican.”

 

Jeff looked at Frankie.

 

“That was quick.”

“All Abed affairs, right?”

“This is blowing my mind right now. You guys are making me so happy, I think I came a little.”

 

Frankie winces at this. Everyone else was sort of used to it.

 

“Please, not in front of my sister, Abed.”

“I’m covering her ears, see?” Abed flaps his arms to show that his hands are on Frankie’s sister’s ears, which she seems to enjoy.

“She still teaches at City College?” Jeff asked.

“Her program HAS BEEN dissolved, but she has floating faculty status because of her bond. So technically, she’s still with City College. She’s contractually obligated to hold onto the post unless --” Frankie says.

“Unless someone plucks her out of her contract through piracy.”

“Yes.”

“And Bob Waite?”

“Well, Bob Waite is trying to sweet talk you into doing that for his sister…with other perks, of course…and you sort of agreed to it…in a moment of weakness. Bob gets around. If you don’t push through with the deal, he’ll threaten you with what he knows.”

“I know how the guy operates.”

“For whatever he sells that information to City College, it’s definitely not just going to be access to porn sites at the office this time. You don’t want Bob on their side when he knows Greendale like the wrinkles on his forehead.”

“Bob may do that to spite me, but Spreck?”

“The Greendale 7 has constantly foiled his plans to bring Craig Pelton down. Craig may not be the dean now, but you are, and you’re de facto leader of the Greendale 7. You’re grudge-by-proxy.”

“Surely there are universities that have learned of Summer’s qualifications?”

“That’s true.”

“Then why not go off state? They’ll be showering her with gifts just to get to her. Why Greendale?” Jeff looks at Abed and Frankie.

“She has separation anxiety.” Abed says.

“She doesn’t agree with Bob’s methods, but she can’t be separated from him…for good reason.” Frankie adds.

“It’s like those two were born for Greendale.” Craig Pelton thought aloud.

“And Bob can’t move off-state for Summer?”

“Greendale’s the only school that still swings with his methods, Jeff. Other schools want results without the underhand transactions. He’s backed in a corner, but he’s still fighting.”

“Why haven’t we fired that guy all these years if he’s going to bring us trouble?”

“It’s difficult to pin him down. He’s not always in campus.”

 

They fall silent.

 

Jeff shoots a nervous look at Britta.

 

“Britta, you’re going on a date with Summer this Saturday.”

“Got it.”

 

Jeff finds this most unbelievable.

 

“You do?”

“You want me to butter her up so she spits out some stuff you want to know. So what DO you want to know?”

 

They throw a nervous glance at Abed. His jaws are clenched, but otherwise, he seemed okay. He’s probably thinking she’ll mess the op up anyway.

 

“Talk about Abed. Talk about film school and be genuinely interested in it. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“While you’re at it, ask about City College and their ‘stance on gun control’.”

“Of course everybody’s against it, Jeff. Have you been watching the news lately?”

“Laws and public opinion are two very different animals, Britta. This is Colorado. People can say they condemn gun possession and that they don’t like seeing people get hurt because of guns, but they’ll still carry them around because the law says they can, even without a license.”

“I’ll think of something.”

“We’re still talking about paintball, right?” Craig Pelton throws a concerned question bomb in the middle of the fort.

 

Jeff shoots him a manic grin.

 

“Of course, Craig…of course.”

 

Craig Pelton casts a knowing glance at Frankie.

 

“Then ask about Bob, where he usually hangs out.” Jeff continues.

“Are you really firing Bob?” Britta asks

“Greendale needs results without the underhand transactions, too, right?”

“You’re going to cross Summer.”

“Summer’s semi-kicked out of City College and needs a job, and Bob doesn’t do his very well without palm grease.”

“There’s a chance you’re triggering another City College assault on Greendale if you fire Bob. You just gave him the right cards to play.” Frankie cautioned.

“I know.”

“That’s insane, Jeff.”

“Then it’s time to go crazy.”

 

Jeff looks at Abed.

 

Craig Pelton slaps Jeff clean across the face and shakes him really hard.

 

“SNAP OUT OF IT WINGER!”

 

Abed hides Frankie’s sister’s face while Craig Pelton deals with Jeff. Frankie and Britta look on as if this was SOP.

 

When Jeff seemed okay, Craig Pelton stops and sits back.

 

“What was that about?” Abed surveys everyone, wide eyed.

“Jeff almost jekylled.” Craig Pelton explained.

 

Abed brows are still creased.

 

“I coined that term.” Britta cleared her throat and held her chin up.

“Unfortunately she did…after spelling it to mean ‘heckled’ in Spanish.” Frankie said, almost to herself.

 

“It’s a condition that’s spread among Greendale students after Jeffrey has instated impromptu paintball battles to purge pent up stress and anxieties…Purges…that’s what they’re called. You know how everyone is when these games start, but now it’s become official. What you’ve witnessed is Jeffrey on the verge of jekylling. When he calls me ‘Craig’, that’s sort of my cue to snap him out of it, or else he’ll shoot someone.”

“That’s nuts.”

“It is, Abed.” Frankie sighs.

“ It’s a serious aftereffect we had to address at the guidance office for almost a month since the semester started. The school’s sort of normalized now. Most of the students and the faculty jekyll on command, but it’s different for Jeff. When he jekylls, which is still involuntary, that’s usually everybody’s cue to cease fire.”

“Because he shoots them all?”

“With a BB rifle. Not just the paint variety. Steel BB pellets.”

“That’s how paintball battles end in Greendale now?”

“No. They’re usually timed for 10 minutes.”

“That’s Jeff’s limit before he steps out with a gun himself.” Britta says.

“If they don’t cease fire, somebody gets hurt....” Frankie says in disbelief.

“Jeffrey walks out of the dean’s office in a three piece suit and an automatic BB rifle like Pacino. So when somebody close to the dean’s office hears the click of his Italian leathers during the paintball window, they just yell ‘The Dean’s coming!’ Nobody’s messed with The Dean’s suit ever since.” Craig proudly tells Abed.

 

Abed looks at Jeff, a tad worried but in awe.

 

“Someone has to keep your rioters in line.” Jeff told him.

 

Abed shakes his head and grins.

 

“You’re pushing all the right buttons in my cockpit, Jeff Winger.”

 

Jeff points at Abed. Abed connects his finger with Jeff’s.

 

Craig Pelton nervously chortles.

Frankie reaches out to cover her sister’s ears over Abed’s hands.

 

“These are happy times for gender equality, and it’s probably me who’s wrong here, but my mind is not accepting this.” Britta croaks.

 

“I’m telling Annie.” Abed pulls out his phone and points the camera at them. Then he sends the picture with all their faces unprepared.

 

He looks at them and smiles.

 

“I’m really glad I came back. Annie wanted to come home with me, but she needed to finish training ‘til Saturday. She’ll definitely be home on the ninth.”

 

He looks at his phone, nostalgic.

 

“’OMJelly. Sad face. Sad face. Sad face. Fist. Can’t wait to come home. C U guys soon. Kissy face. High-five.’ That’s for everyone by the way.” Abed mindlessly massaged his arm.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that was a fist bump, Abed.” Jeff says.

“Between us, that was a punch in the arm. It’s become a habit of hers. It’s not funny, but she puts up with my meltdowns. We can call it quits.”

 

They’re quiet all of a sudden. Abed notices.

 

“I’m excited about coming back to school. I’ve always been curious about Asian cinema, plus, my teacher’s bangin’.”

“I’ll work out the details with Summer on Saturday.” Britta volunteered. Frankie reluctantly approves.

“You want a re-tour of the campus?”Jeff asks him.

“I think I’ll wait for Annie. She wouldn’t want to be left out.”

“Ohhhh.”

 

Everyone drawls.

 

“You can sign up for Summer’s class once…Britta’s fin…a…lized ev…ery…thing?” Jeff extracted the words painfully from somewhere in his butt cheeks.

“Can you give me some credit? If I fail, you’d have failed by association, so stop expecting me to fail. I’ll grease her up so good words will be falling from her mouth even when she doesn’t want them to. Then I’ll make you eat them.”


	2. November 7, 2015, 16:00 hrs

“You’re not going to get any information on my brother’s whereabouts, Britta.”

 

They weren’t even seated and Summer blocks her off like SPF 15.

 

This isn’t a place Britta’s familiar with. Summer drove her more than five miles away from Greendale, and everything’s _Pleasantville_. People are wearing their usual lumberjack plaid, but they’re sitting al fresco at a café in a cobblestone square with a functioning fountain. A low hedge separates the patrons from the bustle on the square. There are a lot of revelers on this Saturday afternoon.

 

Britta wonders if she still is in Colorado.

 

She nervously chuckles.

 

“Psh. Why would I be interested in somebody else on a date? Ooh. Speaking of somebody else, you were playing sticky eyes with my friend Abed. Should have been him instead of me here with you.”

“Sure, he’s interesting, but I’m more interested in your friend Annie.”

 

Well that was unexpected.

 

“Is this like a round table thing you’re doing where you date everyone? We haven’t even started with this one and you talk about dating somebody else?”

“You started it.”

“You talked about Bob first.”

“Fine. If Annie had walked into The Vatican with Abed, how would things be different?”

 

Britta mindlessly shakes her head trying to come up with something wholesome to say. Summer isn’t transparent with her intentions.

 

“Everybody seems eager to know where she is, and she’s supposed to have arrived with Abed. Are they together? Is she Kaylee?”

“Who’s Kaylee?”

“I’m sorry.”

 

Summer giggles.

Britta giggles, too.

 

“I’m so used to being surrounded by _Firefly_ fans I’d forgotten people like you existed.”

“I don’t know.”

“So why were they in Chicago? Who goes to Chicago in the summer?”

 

Britta racks her brains. Who DOES go to Chicago in the summer?

 

“Llllllllllollapalooza people?”

“Hmm.”

 

Britta sighs.

 

“A change in scenery? They told Jeff something about a Cubs game and stand up comedy. We usually hold off on stuff like that for until we come back from summer break.”

“But you weren’t sure they would.”

“What?”

“When we arrived at The Vatican, Jeff said he was giving up on ‘the twins’ coming back. Why does he call them ‘the twins’?”

“Geez, am I on the witness stand? Badgering the witness, your honor?”

 

Summer blinked at Britta.

Britta blinked back at Summer.

For some reason she’s handling this quite well.

 

Britta dances in her seat until she catches Summer looking at her funny.

 

“I’m trying to get rid of a pesky ache in my back.”

 

Summer smiles.

Britta smiles goofy.

 

“Is there a place for me at Greendale?” Summer finally asks her.

 

Britta slouches.

 

“There’s a place for everybody at Greendale. We even have a dog enrolled. Ruffles. It’s a crazy situation, but thanks to Frankie we’ve turned a boo-boo into something good. We now have a training center for service dogs. So now dogs can literally be enrolled into a program at Greendale. NOT…that I’m…comparing you to a dog, but everyone’s accepted.”

“What’s with Greendale’s quasi-militarized status?”

 

_Good cop, bad cop huh? Not gonna fall for that._

 

“You haven’t heard about Greendale being talked about in your school?”

“Spreck’s really pissed with Craig Pelton.”

“You don’t know about the space program sabotage, or the Western picnic whomp?”

“Those sound like fun.”

“Yyyyyyeaaaaaaaahhh, but your school’s been bullying us for years now.”

 

Britta still couldn’t tell if Summer’s sincerely new to everything she’s hearing or just playing coy.

 

“I’m tied to my bond. If I quit, I’m required to pay my scholarship in full. ”

“Greendale can’t pay for your scholarship to bail you out.”

“I’m not asking Greendale to pay for my bond, I’m asking if Jeff can lawyer me out of it.”

“I thought you hated Jeff.”

“Still do.”

“Why can’t you just trudge through the last half of your bond?”

“Because if I do then I’ll rot there teaching 101s while indoctrinating students with Spreck propaganda.”

“What?”

“You know, Greendale sucks. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Really?”

“Craig Pelton doesn’t do that?”

“No.”

“But you’ve militarized Greendale.”

“It’s not exactly militarized. We’re the same school but with a really cool live action first-person shooter program. Pelton can’t be credited for that.”

“So it’s Winger?”

“Abed loves paintball. When Frankie came, she tried to stop people from getting into paintball fights, but Jeff’s loosened her into allowing regulated use. Jeff’s kind of afraid of losing Abed, so he’s pulling out all the stops.”

“What is up with those two?”

“Shared interests?”

 

Britta shrugs.

 

“Jeff incorporated paintball into the curriculum just for Abed?”

“He worked his butt off to get it up and running before fall semester started. He can be pretty persuasive.”

“I’m assuming that’s how he ended up being the dean.”

“He presented a really solid case against Craig Pelton and why he should step down. Pelton agreed to it beforehand, so it’s barely sabotage. They could have gotten somebody else, but Winger somehow Winger’d the board. He’s currently taking masters for something. We never know. He likes to enroll in blowup classes. Frankie’s nudging his subjects so at least he ends up getting an administrative degree.”

 

Summer fumbles with the hem of her shirt.

 

“If Greendale is as Bob tells me it is, then I want in. I don’t like Jeff. I don’t have to like him, but I want him to do for me what he did for Abed. I will promise him my loyalty, but I can’t promise to like him.”

 

Britta snickers.

 

“What’s with the slave talk? Look, your papers are here. Jeff agreed to do this, but before stuff gets swapped across the table, I need to know if we’re on the clear. You heard Jeff. City College hasn’t been easy on us, and how would we know if your remaining years bound to Spreck aren’t spent on covert affairs inside Greendale?”

“At City College, I’m just the trophy scholar that Spreck waves at the board whenever they come around, but trust me, I’m more than just a film scholar.”

 

Britta squints at Summer and tries to squeeze out two years’ worth of psychology just to know if there is any truth to what she’s saying. She doesn’t want to screw this up, but she could believe Summer now and screw up, or she could decide not to give her the papers and still screw up.

 

“Where’s Bob, Summer?”

 

She’s suddenly guarded.

 

“Summer, if you –“

“You’re going to fire him.”

“Yeah.”

 

Summer continues to fumble with the hem of her shirt.

 

“When I was younger my dad –“

 

Britta shook her head.

 

“If you feel uncomfortable, you don’t have to tell me anything.”

“Well, duh?”

 

Summer grimaced.

 

“Bob rescued me from that place, Britta. Our mother was just the person making sloppy decisions, but you can’t blame her if she easily trusts people, she doesn’t want to leave the jerk. Bob took care of me, and he did whatever he could. I get that his way of doing stuff is eff’d up, but he looks after his own.”

 

Britta’s feels for this kid…as she’d always felt for every single pity cause. She hesitates, but she takes out the papers from her bag.

 

“Boo. Hoo.”

 

 

“I got this!”

“Oh you DON’T ‘got’ this.”

 

He carries his seat from behind Summer to their table and sits between them.

 

“This is not a business meeting. It’s supposed to be a date. I’m making conversation, and I don’t need a chaperone.” Britta slams her fist on the table.

“Are you kidding?”

 

Jeff swings his head in Summer’s direction.

 

“You took Britta out on a ‘date’ because she’s the most impressionable person in the room that night. You knew we weren’t going to let you in that easy.”

 

Britta opens her mouth to speak, but Jeff zips her mouth with a gesture.

 

“Why are you more than just a film scholar?”

“Did you decide to show up because it annoys you to no end that I don’t really want to like you?”

“That, while somewhat true, is irrelevant. Answer the question, Summer.”

 

Summer huffs and reaches into her back pocket.

 

She tosses a thick bundle of paper onto the table. Britta hurriedly unfolds it. It’s Spreck’s blueprint for S.P.I.D.E.R.

 

Jeff raises his eyebrow.

 

“Spreck has funds for this?”

“For blueprints? Yes. City College has funds for blueprints.”

 

Jeff sneers at her attempt at sarcasm. He holds his phone to his ear.

 

“Frankie, what’s left of City College’s curriculum exactly?”

 

Summer shoots a sharp glance at Britta. Britta shrugs. Really. She didn’t know she’s being shadowed.

 

“Interesting. Summer, City College dissolved your program, along with most Liberal Arts programs, and built a curriculum fit for North Korean propaganda puppets. Were you aware of this?”

 

Jeff looks around, suddenly interested in the square’s architecture and its people.

 

“He dissolved programs, but he kept faculty.”

“Were you paid?”

“That’s the problem.”

“You do know that even if you have a bond, you have the right to quit if you’re not paid, right? You have a contract for that. You can either settle this and walk out or sue them for breach.”

“Yes.”

 

He starts to wonder if this girl really is as gifted as her brother touts her.

 

“What are we even doing here?”

 

Summer dismissively raises her left hand and sighs. There’s an electronic bangle around her small wrist. It had been hidden in her clothes the whole time.

 

“That’s…your contract?”

“How perceptive.”

“That could easily be –“

“Yes. This is the contract.”

“They had funds for that?”

“This junk? The only thing that’s state-of-the-art here is the locking and tracking system. The rest is just flash.”

 “You were shown a bangle and you agreed to the bond?”

“Bob agreed to it. I enrolled. They told me this was the school’s ID. It’s a little weird, but sure, cool, I get to study for free…next thing, I couldn’t take it off.”

“So Spreck knows you’d come to The Vatican.”

“What does he know? I could be out with some friends and strayed a little off campus.”

“What?”

“Bob and I live in the City College campus.”

 

Jeff looked at Britta.

 

“Well that was easy.”

 

Summer catches herself. Jeff grins.

 

“You don’t want Bob on their side, Pops.”

“If they’ve provided him with housing, how do I know if he’s not already on their side?”

“If he worked for City College, he wouldn’t be paid. He’d give them information, and all he’s gonna get is a pat on the head. If he works for City College NOW, he’ll be doing it out of spite.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“If you bail me out, you’re bailing both of us out of there, and he’ll be indebted to you. If he’s indebted to you, then maybe you can negotiate terms. Where will Bob be if he’s out of a job? If this mechanical spider isn’t just a blueprint anymore, what will happen to Greendale if Bob dishes out all of its secrets?”

 

Britta gasps.

 

“Oh my god. Abed was right.”

“What?”

 

Summer looks at them. Jeff is surprisingly calm.

 

“Now I’m REALLY curious about that beef Spreck has with Pelton. I guess we’re going to have a slumber party tonight.”

“I’ll tell everyone.” Britta fishes for her phone in her bag.

“None of you are invited.”

 

Britta raises her eyebrows at Jeff.

 

He takes the papers from Britta and tosses them on the table.

 

“How do you feel about handling Eastern Perspective on Western Cinema?”

“Sounds interesting.”

 

Jeff snaps his fingers at Britta and mouths “Give me your phone.”

 

“It’s an elective. We’re opening it for enrollment on Monday.”

 

Britta gives him question eyebrows. Jeff continues to snap at Britta. She concedes.

 

“You’ll get the official school tour with Abed and Annie then…if you haven’t been on campus.”

 

Jeff slides the phone over to Summer and signals her to open it up. Summer is confused, but does what she’s told.

 

“But this –“

 

She holds her bangle up again.

 

“I’ll take care of it.”

 

Britta’s phone vibrates in her hands. It’s Jeff.

 

 _“Is your bangle, by any chance, tapped?”_ The text says.

“Excuse me?” Summer asks aloud.

_“Took you long enough, Pops.”_

“Did I stutter?”

_“Don’t call me that.”_

“After all that back and forth you’re just going to hand these over to me?”

_“Barbie’s chatty.”_

“Remember when I agreed to take you in that night at The Vatican?”

_“Shut up. Ask her for some lotion and slide that bangle off of you.”_

“Yeah. Britta d’you have some lotion?”

“Uh, sure, I got some.”

 

Britta does clueless while Summer nonchalantly applies lotion on her arms.

 

Jeff keeps his eyes on hers as he carefully places a Montblanc pen on the table.

 

“You can afford that on government payroll?”

 

Summer assesses the pen as she slowly wriggles her wrist free from the bangle. Her eyes dart around the square. Jeff follows her glances.

 

“I wasn’t always the dean.”

 

Summer puts her feet up on the edge of the table and tilts her chair backwards.

A tray zips between her and Jeff.

Summer tosses Britta’s phone back to her and grabs Jeff’s pen from the table.

 

She walks away from them, her strides purposeful. Her target is ten yards away. He’s just a kid, almost her age.

 

Jeff clenches his jaw. The kid had the gall to call that bangle junk when it does every single imaginable thing a tracking device would do. She did say it was state-of-the-art, though, oddly enough.

 

Britta wasn’t easy in her seat either. She’s mortified.

 

Summer’s hand was balled in a tight fist around that pen, and it appears she’s planning to do something really drastic.

 

The teenager cowers when he realizes that Summer’s headed for him.

 

Then it was over in a second.

 

They barely saw her move, but the kid sat there, still as a statue.

 

Summer returned, signed the papers, and gave them back to Jeff.

 

“Now get me out of here.”

 

FWIP!

KRRRTRRRSSSHHHHH!

A glass breaks.

Frenzy erupts in the square.

Suddenly there’s a chorus of puffs coming from all directions.

 

People quietly enjoying their Saturday afternoon now run like crazy around the square, dodging bullets.

 

Jeff, Summer, and Britta crouch under the table.

 

“You planned this.” He growled.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, Pops.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“You wish.”

 

Another bullet whizzes past them and plants itself onto a nearby iron garbage can.

 

“That’s not paintball…”

 

He can take paintballs hitting his Lexus, but a steel pellet?

 

“Let’s get out of here.”

 

Jeff mobilizes them, snaking under tables.

 

There are boots on the square now. The people are still in a frenzy, but they made sure to steer clear of the café. The helmet heads stand around the plastic hedge.

 

It’s difficult NOT to be spotted under a three-legged bistro table.

 

Summer topples the one they’re under.

 

“What are you doing?!?”

 

Summer grabs a tray from another table and surveys the helmets around her.

 

Spreck only sent a score of people to get her…and an alert on her head. Along with the helmet heads, there are civilians with their Airsofts on her as well.

 

She only needed to hurt the twenty.

 

Summer flings the tray onto one of the helmet heads with a backspin.

His head whiplashes.

Summer grabs the tray as it ricochets into her grasp and slams it twice onto another helmet head.

She wraps her arm around his rifle and shoots at the crotch of a third.

Somebody misfires.

 

Jeff nudges Britta and they both run towards the Lexus.

 

Summer pulls at the rifle and swings it onto a fourth helmet head.

Her hand finds an Airsoft pistol somewhere on fourth helmet head and quickly but carefully shoots inside the thighs of the three helmet heads close to her.

She uses fourth helmet head as a shield, takes his helmet from him and, instead of putting it on, bashes the next helmet head she finds with it.

 

Jeff redials Frankie. “Get Abed to do a deeper profile scan on Summer.”

He pops the trunk and takes out his BB rifle.

Britta grabs a Tippmann handgun.

“This place is like a North Korean theme park…no, not run down and empty. It’s a theme park with mindless cronies hanging around in SWAT gear. We’re sort of in the DMZ. Yeah. Bad kind of loopy.”

“Jeff hasn’t jekylled and he’s pulled out THE rifle. THAT crazy.”

 

Britta yelled into the mouthpiece. Jeff gives her a “WTF?”

 

They rush back to help, but Summer had it covered.

 

They stand there slack-jawed as she repeatedly hammers the last helmet head standing, on the head, with the butt of an Airsoft rifle.

 

The civilians with their guns had backed down.

 

“Looks like somebody’s finally out-bad assed you, Pops.” Britta said.

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“It just did, in case your failing eyesight missed all that awesomeness.”

“I meant you calling me ‘Pops’.”

 

Summer briskly heads for them.

Jeff raises a hand for a high-five. She grabs it and drags him towards the Lexus. Britta hurries behind them while watching the helmet heads trying to collect their bearings.

 

“A little late to the party, Pops. Get that Lexus running. They’re calling for backup.”

“How’d you know?”

 

Summer shoots him an implied facepalm.

Jeff does as he’s told.

 

As they drive farther away from City College’s attempt at a friendly campus, Summer slouches a little deeper into the passenger seat.

 

“If I let you call me ‘Pops,’ are you going to hate me less?”

“I’m calling you ‘Pops’ precisely because I don’t want to like you, Winger.”

“She’s got daddy issues.” Britta contributes from the back.

“Well that’s something we have in common.” Jeff grins at Summer.

“Oh. Were you raped by your father, too?”

 

That shut them up.

 

“Yyyyyeaaaaaaaaaaah. I thought so. Makes Bob look like _Shawshank Redemption_ Morgan Freeman, right?”

 

Jeff’s more cautious about quipping around her now.

 

This girl IS more than just a film major: she’s got serious, desensitized rage and skills even he’s afraid to question. No wonder Bob tiptoes around her, seeing she’s not as amused with him.

 

“Please don’t tell me they inject superhero serum into enrollees at City College.”  
“HAH. That’s funny.”  
“Do they?”

“I happen to watch a lot of Three Brothers.”

“Didn’t you mean Shaw Brothers?”

“Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung, and Yuen Biao. The Three Brothers. They’re always fun to watch.”

“I watch a lot of _Big Bang Theory_ but you don’t hear me talk nerd, do you?”

“Nerds don’t talk nerd, Pops. They talk people.”

“HAH! Waite two. Winger zero.”

“Shut up, Britta.”

“I don’t have belts or stuff, if that’s what you’re asking. I watch. I absorb. I happen to be someone fortunate to have a body that does what its brain tells it to do. That was barely kung-fu.”

 

Jeff accepts this more readily than he usually would.

 

“Spreck shouldn’t be running a school.”

“By your standards, you shouldn’t be running a school either.”

“I have help.”

“There’s that.”

 

Summer smiles at him.

Jeff smiles like he’d just been given the Nobel Peace prize – like knowing he doesn’t deserve one.

 

“About Bob –“  
“Bob can’t keep that job anymore.”

“That wasn’t the deal.”

“The deal was to take you in, and we did. We didn’t talk about how bad he was at doing his job.”

 

Summer’s fuming, but it doesn’t seem she’s fuming over the news as much as knowing that Bob had this coming.

 

“Whatever we’re doing with him has nothing to do with you, Summer.”

“Whatever.“

“He won’t be without a job.”

“Every university that gave –“

“I said he won’t be without a job.”

 

Summer finds this hard to absorb.

 

“You really don’t want to listen to anything I’m telling you about that robot, do you?”

“Look, it’s all hipster chic and earth-friendly, that robot, but it’s huge and it’s clumsy. And it’s solar powered. If you’re as smart as Bob says you are, then you’ll know that a misplaced Lego brick can trip it. Have you not seen _The Incredibles_?”

“If you’re as smart as you think you are, Pops, you would consider that this robot may be segmented into smaller parts that can eventually combine and become a big robot. Have you not seen _Power_ _Rangers_?”

“Oh, what? You want me to be bothered by that?”

“You’re not?”

“I’m surprised Spreck has all the money and the permits to do everything you say City College is doing, but he’s so blinded by his rage against the Pelton that he forgot we could send an inspector to his school since you so willingly handed this blueprint over. If the district board finds out about this hoohah, what d’you think they’ll do?”

 

She shuts up.

 

“Bob’s a sly dog. He’ll know how to play his cards right. If he wants to use City College to exact revenge, that robot isn’t something he’ll want to use against me. And besides, I doubt that City College will be his first option…IF he’d want revenge.”

 

Summer seems to get it.

Britta sort of gets it.

Jeff pushes a button on the dashboard.

 

“Hello Jeffrey.”

“Summer’s bunking with you tonight.”

“Oh! That sounds fun.”

“You okay with that?”

“I just said it’s going to be fun, Jeffrey.”

“I meant Summer.”

“Cool. Cool…cool…cool.”

 

Well, that’s unexpected.

Summer notices the weird look Jeff and Britta are giving her.

 

“Cool, cool, cool it is!.........Oh my god, time to bring out the slumber party sheets! What am I going to wear --”

 

Craig Pelton’s voice trails off as they hear a thud. He’s forgotten to hang up, and for a moment, they listen to him dictate whatever he’s doing.

 

Jeff hangs up.

 

“I don’t get why Spreck hates him.”

 

Summer keeps her eyes on the phone.

 

“I don’t either.” He sighs, sarcastically.

 


	3. November 7, 2015, 16:30 hrs

In a small room in the heart of City College, there are five rows of black and white screens, four trained on the riot happening at the City College square.

 

In front of those screens are Stephen Spreck and a couple of helmet heads.

 

A distress call squawks from left helmet head’s radio. He’s a little confused as to how he should approach the dean about this. But if the dean cared, he’d already have reacted to what’s happening.

 

“We’ve ID-ed the Lexus, dean. It’s Jeff Winger’s.”

 

Right helmet head reports, seemingly in line with Spreck’s thinking.

 

“Put it in the file that says ‘for disposal’.”

“Copy that. What about the girl?”

“She’s clever. I’ll give her that.”

 

Spreck pivots and sashays to the door.

 

“Then again, if she was, she wouldn’t be in this situation would she?”

“No, dean.”

“But she was right. Look how much information that got us. I don’t even mind that blueprint leaking.”

“Everything according to plan, dean.”

“A little delayed, thanks to that cynic Winger. But, yes, everything according to plan.”

 

He opens a drawer full of pictures of a very flattering candid of Jeff Winger entering his car.

 

Spreck grabs a bundle and tries to rip all of them at the same time.

 

Left helmet head wonders if that’s where all the months of unpaid salary went.

 

That girl had it easy. For all he knew she’d have run away from City College, never to report again.

 

Spreck has successfully torn the bundle of pictures halfway but is having difficulty finishing. He struggles.

 

Left helmet head and right helmet head look on.

Spreck notices.

He shoves the papers onto right helmet head.

 

“Finish that off and throw it like confetti in this room. Meanwhile, I’m announcing the release of half a years’ back pay as a sign of my benevolence. I’m feeling good today. Make sure you thank Jennifer for her sacrifice.”

 

Right helmet head proceeds to tear the bundle of Winger pictures with difficulty.

Left helmet head shakes his head.

 

He’s been in this school as the vice dean for ten years. Everything was peachy in the first five years, but on the sixth year, shit started happening, and the money stopped coming. Programs are cut off, but the faculty kept. Students graduate but still kept around…then again, let’s face it, what’s the difference when they’re out there anyway?

 

Now after four years, all he’s getting is half a year’s back pay.

 

Tears wash his face like dirty snow on the windshield.

 

He couldn’t really tell if he’s happy something’s coming or just fucking over it.

 


	4. November 7, 2015, 17:30 hrs

Britta watches Jeff’s Lexus drive off, downtrodden.

 

She’s tired.

 

Abed’s busy on his laptop when she came in.

She sits across the table wanting to talk even when he doesn’t.

 

“You’re sad. There’s some beer in the fridge.”

“Not in the mood.”

“You look like you could use some nourishment.”

“No thanks.”

“There’s a stash of pot –“

“I just want to talk. Can we talk?”

 

Abed freezes.

She reaches out and holds his hand.

 

“Abed.” She tries to make eye contact.

“Abed. We used to talk, remember? This is normal. This is nothing new. Remember?”

 

Abed nods.

She lets him go.

 

“Are we good?”

“We’re Chandler and Phoebe.”

“Uh…”

“We don’t have a lot of stories together.”

“Abed, what did I tell you about mixing real life and television?”

 

She pauses.

She’s tired.

 

“Great. Now you’ve undone the one thing I was getting right. Abed, am I a joke to you?”

 

She asks.

Abed appears to be processing this question more seriously.

She waits as he looks on.

 

“Was that a rhetorical question?” He asks.

“I thought I was getting out of this screwing-things-up business when I kept everything in this apartment as is, and you know what? I was really proud of that, but somehow I still managed to screw it up. It feels like every time I try to help, the more I screw things up, and I start to wonder if I’d still be of any use to anybody…somebody…I’m not even useful to myself.”

 

He considers her for a moment and decides to forego whatever he was doing on his laptop.

 

“Your date with Summer was a setup.”

“Abed –“

 

He raises a finger.

She shuts up.

 

“Whether or not Summer signs the papers, all she needed was the stuff that comes out of your mouth.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

 

Abed flips his phone open.

 

“’Summer’s playing her like Ponzi. She’s talking about everything and she doesn’t even realize it. That’s it. I’m going in.’ That’s Jeff, by the way. He transcribed your conversation as it happened. It looks like they’ve done some research, too. They knew you’d be easy target, and she knows your weaknesses.”

 

Britta crosses her arms feeling a little more dejected.

 

“That’s a convoluted way to say ‘yes’.”

“You don’t get it.”

“What am I supposed to get from that? You just told me I told her things that I’m not supposed to talk about.”

“Remember what I said about ‘thing’s?” Abed continued.

“Yeah.” Britta shot back.

“You’re breaking yourself, Britta. Right now, you’re the only one who’s unaccepting of who you are. Your name is a verb in Greendale’s dictionary. Not everybody has that privilege.”

 

That privilege being likened to messing up.

She hates that.

She hates herself for that.

And she hates hating herself for that.

She’s mad at herself, but she refuses to blame herself.

She looks at Abed and all she wants to do is inflict a truckload of human rights violations on him just because he’s there.

 

Britta stares at Abed. He gets back to doing what he’s doing on his laptop.

She sure doesn’t want to break down in front of Abed and his aloofness, but she’s been so weary.

 

Abed sits up and folds his hands in front of him, obviously uncomfortable. He furrows his brows and tilts his head, then he reacts the only way he knows how.

 

“I don’t see you the way you see yourself, Britta. You’re a hero, but you have to recognize that the kind of hero you are does not get the glory. You’re Lester Siegel and John Chambers in _Argo_. Or Rich Purnell.”

 

Britta waits for an explanation, but when it’s clear that she isn’t getting any, she asks, “Who the hell is Rich Purnell?”

 

Clearly this disappoints Abed. His jaws tighten.

 

“You haven’t seen _The Martian_.” He states a fact, not a question.

 

“Rich Purnell’s a steely-eyed missile man.”

 

Britta shakes her head, still lost. Abed shakes his head and figures out a way to reel her back in.

 

“In _Apollo 11,_ you’re one of the engineers jumping and shouting in the background at the mission center while Ed Harris gets a teary albeit meaningless closeup when Aquarius lands safely in the water. Your ‘thing’ is instrumental to a lot of other things succeeding, but you can’t revel in these victories the way someone like Jeff can. You’re not Ed Harris. If you fix your ‘thing’ when everyone’s counting on it, then these plans fall apart. You are still part of the Greendale 7. We’re all working parts of a big robot.”

 

She wipes the ugly crying from her face.

 

That sounded like a Winger speech, but this is Abed. She tends to forget that there’s still a cookie of sense in his head…after all, out of all of them, he’s the only one who ended up sane in the test she gave them three years ago.

 

Somehow she’s starting to understand where Jeff is coming from when it comes to Abed.

 

“This is standard Spreck.” He continues.

“All his operations require a mole. First, they had Annie. Then they sent the Black Rider. Then Chang --”

“Chang was a mole?”

“Remember when we were so gassed that we actually believed in Changnesia?”

“Oh.”

“Then there’s Lapari.”

“They built a robot, Abed.”

“That robot coming here has nothing to do with you…you didn’t screw anything up.”

“I…didn’t?”

“Summer doesn’t like Jeff very much, and asking him out on a date would send Jeff the wrong message…not to mention things could end up differently…then THAT would have screwed things up. She knew no one would trust you to properly execute your duty, so she used you as bait, and it worked perfectly.” Abed says.

 

Britta slowly lifts her arm up and discreetly blows into her sleeve.

 

“Summer could have taken you out on a date outside City College campus, you know, but she didn’t. She wanted us to know what’s going on without her saying anything. She wants us to understand why she wants to leave.” He almost mumbles with a faraway look in his eyes.

“You really do like her.”

“When I called her name, I just set a whole lot of other gears in motion.”

“Abed you’re manipulating people.”

“But even you have to admit that you’d rather have her on our side when the going gets tough.”

“And Annie?”

“She’s excited to meet her. She’s enrolling into the elective with me on Monday.”

“You and Annie aren’t together?”

“What?”

“I mean…”

“Annie and I are not canon, Britta.”

“What did Summer mean when she asked if she was YOUR ‘Kaylee’?”

 

Abed smiles.

 

“What does that mean?” Britta asks again, still left in the vacuum just outside of Serenity.

“Annie’s a lot like Kaylee. She’s really young but foxy; she fixes things; and she wants to be taken seriously, but people really don’t.”

 

His eyes widen, and he gazes at her with pinlight-like orbs in his eyes. He points at her.

 

“You’re Jayne Cobb!”

“Wuh?”

“You’re Jayne Cobb!”

“Who?”

“You’re Jayne Cobb!”

“YOU SAID THAT, LIKE, THREE TIMES! Who the hell is Jayne Cobb?”

“A character from _Firefly_.”

“Is she like no-nonsense Calamity Jane or Doris Day Calamity Jane?”

“He’s a dunce, but, sure, he’s a no-nonsense character.”

“He?”

“Jayne Cobb knows he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and he doesn’t try to be. But he knows what he’s good at, and he sticks to his guns.”

“Oh yeah? What’s he good at?”

“Guns.”

“Oh.”

“…Britta, we just found a way to empower your ‘thing’…”

“Sounds like a superhero operation.”

“I like how you’re thinking.”

“I think I like where this is going.”

 


	5. November 7, 2015, 17:45 hrs

“TADAHHHH!”

 

They know Craig Pelton is there by the door, and he probably has his arm up like a Jane Fonda entrance, but he’s drowned by all the purple throbbing from inside his apartment. Everything is in varying shades of lurid neon, even the newly installed dusty shag carpet, vivified by everything that’s in the living room.

 

Jeff has a 26 ounce iced tea mix can under his arm and Summer behind him.

 

“Oh. You’re staying in, too?” Craig Pelton mumbled.

 

He waves at them to follow him in.

 

“I’m sorry the décor’s a little too tacky for your taste, Jeffrey.”

 

Jeff scans the apartment. Everything in it, including Craig Pelton and Summer, is turning _Lisa Frank_ purple in his eyes.

 

“Oooohhhh woooooooowwwwww.”

 

Summer’s in a daze, too, though they couldn’t tell if she’s happy about it or just aghast.

 

They let her stand in awe under a projected light mobile as Jeff pulls Craig Pelton aside.

 

“My eyes are burning.” Jeff closes his eyes.

“I thought it was going to be just the two of us…Summer and I, I mean.”

“I can’t tell if this is some Pierce-like trance you’re trying to get Summer into or a ‘90s slumber party spilling over the wrong decade. I’m telling you, they’re both morally incorrect.”

“I’ll dial it down.”

 

Craig Pelton turns to leave, but Jeff keeps him where he is.

Craig Pelton recognizes the need to report.

 

“Well?”

“Story checks out.”

 

Jeff leans in closer.

 

“Keep it down. She might hear us from where she’s standing.”

 

Craig Pelton looks at him in disbelief as he subtly reaches for the can from under Jeff’s arm. Jeff swats the hand away.

 

“Jeffrey. Really?”

“She’s insane.”

“I thought we were going for that.”

“She was badly hurting people...with a service tray.”

 

Craig Pelton grimaced.

 

“Not worse than she did to her dad, I hope.”

“Don’t tell me –“

 

Craig Pelton suddenly turns and walks away.

 

“Let’s return to our candy floss kingdom, shall we? Now’s not the time for leather-mahogany bachelor chic.”

 

Jeff pulls him back.

 

“You mean –“

 

“I tend to overdo things, I know, but all this purple? It’s a nervous accident. I’m scared for my life, Jeffrey. I’m glad she’s here, sincerely, but I don’t want to be here when she’s pissed off, and by ‘here’ I mean Colorado…or the United States…”

 

Craig Pelton tries to take the can from Jeff, but Jeff pushes his hand away.

 

“I Britta’d it, didn’t I?”

“If this is Stephen’s doing, then you’ve been backed in a corner ever since the Waites stepped into The Vatican. That’s Abed talking, by the way.”

“Jesus.”

“Abed says that having her here is a good thing. I don’t know why, but you trust him, so I trust him.”

 

Craig Pelton raises his hands and attempts to take the can from Jeff one more time.

 

“STOP TAKING IT FROM ME!”  
“YOUR BLOOD SUGAR LEVEL IS HITTING 300! I HAVE SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS FROM FRANKIE TO KEEP YOU OFF THE ICED TEA!”

 

They fight over the can.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

They didn’t notice her creeping up on them like that.

They both release the can, popping the plastic lid loose and spilling the contents on the floor.

They point at each other.

 

Summer tilts her head as she looks at the can on the floor.

 

“That’s all yours?”

“It’s sugar free.”

“Old people, even someone as ‘fit’ as you, get all sorts of diseases, Pops. Too much of anything is poison.”

 

Craig Pelton’s disappointed in Jeff, keeping his disappointed eyes on him as he sweeps up the mess. Still, he mouths ‘Pops?’ to Jeff. Jeff widens his eyes at him and nudges his head towards Summer.

 

“I’m right here.” Summer says.

“I KNOW!” Craig Pelton fails to mask the fakeness in his chuckling.

“I’m sorry about all that. I’ll take it down.”

“Is Bob staying here, too?”

 

 

Jeff scans for people in his head to delegate real estate duty.

Annie’s still in Chicago.

Frankie’s busy making Summer’s elective legit.

Craig Pelton’s taking care of Summer.

Abed’s digging up more dirt on Summer.

Nope. Not Britta.

 

He’s stuck with it.

He better find them a place to stay fast, or he’ll have to bump into Bob and Summer every single day.

 

He brandishes his cellphone and starts looking.

 

Summer nods at the awkward silence and then nudges Craig Pelton.

 

“What’s up with you and Spreck?”

 

Jeff looks up from his cellphone, his thumbs still moving.

Craig Pelton trips a little and nervously brushes a finger behind his ear.

 

“Excuse me?”

“These things won’t be happening if you hadn’t pissed him off so bad. Were you two an item?”

 

Craig Pelton’s a little hesitant, but flattered by the sudden interest.

 

“We’re more like Annie and Shirley.”

“Oh COME ON!” Jeff groans.

“’Oh come on’ your face, Pops. What about that slumber party where no one’s invited?”

“What slumber party?” Craig Pelton turns to Jeff.

 

Summer sneers at Jeff as he keeps silent.

Craig Pelton ushers Summer back to candy floss kingdom and starts taking stuff down. Jeff texts a few feet away from them.

 

“Stephen and I were friends in Appatomax –“

“By the way, that’s an actual school.” Jeff calls from his corner.

“I figured that out the first time, Pops.”

“A little tip on catchphrases, Summer, they’re bound to wear off when used frequently.”

“Speaking of catchphrases and pops, we have a student called Magnitude --”

“Except ‘Pop, pop!’…that thing never dies.”

“You just had to be the one talking, huh?”

“You just had to be the punk who gets fr --“

“CAN YOU JUST PLEASE LET ME TELL THE FREAKIN’ STORY, JEFFREY!” Craig Pelton shrieked.

 

His face is red, sweaty, and bunched in frustration.

Jeff stops texting.

 

“I get that you’re not interested. But Summer is here, and she’s the first person who’s ever asked me anything about myself in all the years you have known me, and by god I’m taking it even when I know she doesn’t care either.” He turns to Summer, his hands tightly gripping tinsel.

 

“I’m gen –“

“Don’t act coy. We know what you’re up to.”

“Geez, is there seriously a road block every five yards to Greendale?”

 

Craig Pelton walks up to her and looks her in the eye, his face wet with tears and sweat.

 

“Hands up.”

 

She folds her arms in front of her, but Craig Pelton doesn’t let up.

 

“Hands. Up.”

 

Summer stubbornly casts her eyes elsewhere as she does as she’s told. Jeff clears his throat.

 

“Remember what you said about pissing her off?”

“If she’s already pissed off, then she’d have dealt with me in more convenient ways. You don’t mind, do you?”

 

“You think?” Summer raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“You can’t frisk her without reasonable suspicion, Pelton.”

“But we do, don’t we?”

“You’re not a police officer, and this can be grounds for harassment.”

 

Craig Pelton doesn’t care. He keeps his eyes on Summer as he frisks her thoroughly.

 

Jeff watches them from where he is.

 

He knew six things about Craig Pelton: He likes to dress up, he likes Dalmatians, he likes trains, he’s gay, he’s a dean…or was, and he’s a politician. He always thought the seventh thing he should know about Craig Pelton is that he really, really likes Jeff Winger…now he’s not so sure.

 

It’s unsettling how Craig Pelton goes about the activity. It’s even more unsettling that he’s abetting, knowing the consequences should this matter get out.

 

Craig Pelton steps away from Summer and wipes a tear from his eye.

 

“Satisfied?” Summer hugs and seats herself, a little shaken.

 

Craig Pelton snaps his fingers around Summer.

 

“CHECK, one, TWO, mic TEST.”

“I’m not bugged, Craig.”

“It’s actually better if you are SO HE CAN HEAR THIIIIS.”

 

Craig Pelton talks into Summer’s chest. She puts her hand on his face and pushes him away.

 

Jeff slouches into a fold-up chair a few feet from them.

 

“Or what if she’s got one of those _Mission Impossible_ contact lenses?”

 

Craig Pelton inspects her eyes…

 

…then there’s a crash.

 

They barely had time to react, but when Jeff and Craig Pelton blinked, Summer already had a broken lamp trained on Craig Pelton’s jugular.

Jeff drops his phone and his jaw, unawares.

 

“Don’t damage the goods, honey.” Craig Pelton drawled.

“How long is this going to go on, Pops?”

 

He’s looking at the lamp, the broken bulb pressing onto Craig Pelton’s skin.

 

“This isn’t how you earn trust.” Craig Pelton says.

“Then, by golly, how?”

 

She searches their faces for answers. They look like they’re searching for answers in her face, too.

She grimaces.

 

“You want me to tell you that I’m working undercover for Spreck?”

“We already know that.”

 

The next second, Craig Pelton has Summer pinned down on the ground with his left knee, the hand holding the lamp under the other knee.

Jeff jumps out of his seat and has trouble finding a place for his hands. He accidentally steps on his phone and slips.

 

“JESUS, PELTON!” Jeff has his hands on his head and his heart now.

 

Summer is genuinely shaken.

 

“Frankly, dear, I don’t care if there’s an organ in your body recording and feeding what’s happening right now to whatever machine they have at City College, I just want to make sure this gets to Spreck.”

 

Craig Pelton is insane.

 

“I have to ping to him some time through my cellphone, let him know where I am, and report when I can. It’s a little less convenient without the tracker.” She struggles getting the words out.

“Ooh. She’s suddenly blabby.”

 

He frisks her while he keeps her down.

 

“Was leaving the tracker part of the plan?”

“No.”

“Why leave it?”

“Pops showed up when Barbie was already handing me the contract. It’s harder to convince him. I changed tack.”

 

Craig Pelton inspects her cellphone and shortly figures out how to ping to City College.

 

“And the helmet heads?”

“Can you let me up? I’m having a hard time breathing.”

 

Craig Pelton takes the lamp from her hand and throws it beyond reach.

 

Summer immediately crawls away from Craig Pelton and peers at both of them from behind her hugged knees.

 

“I didn’t leave one college to be held hostage in another. What are you people?”

“This isn’t as bad as it seems.” Jeff buffs the edge off his voice and tries to smile.

“This isn’t bad? Craig Pelton pinned me down. Rinky-dink Craig Pelton...of all people…pinned me down.”

“You held a broken light bulb to his throat.”

“You were harassing me.”

“You knew we had a reason to.”

“What?!?”

 

Jeff checks on Craig Pelton and finds that he has crawled into a corner with sparse pillows and settles down.

 

“Whose side are you on, Summer?”

“I just needed to get out of there, and so does Bob. You were our ticket out.”

“And the ping?”

“That keeps them at bay. There has to be a semblance of employment; I still need to let them know where I am, and what I’m doing; otherwise they’ll come after me with a lawsuit.”

“I wonder what happens when every person at City College with the tracker takes it off at the same time.”

“Remember when I said the locking device was state-of-the-art? A pin embeds itself on the person when someone tries to take it off. Every tracker is different. Spreck’s most trusted have theirs around more vital parts of their bodies. A group of students tried doing it once…they’re still roaming City College…like zombies.”

“You got away with it.”

“They needed a mole at Greendale, remember? Every Spreck operation requires a mole. They disabled the auto-lock function on my bracelet because of the plan.”

“And he trusted you?”

“Free or not, he now knows how you became dean. He knows you’re quasi-militarized, and he knows you did that for personal gains. Barbie was a foolproof plan, and hey, you found out what they’re hiding, too, so thanks, Summer.”

“Yeah, thanks, but the helmet heads?”

“I kind of paralyzed that kid with your fancy ballpen. They didn’t expect that. All I have to do now is give them something to chew on, and they’ll believe it’s all part of the plan because, let’s face it, you guys are just killing it with the paranoia.”

 

A light goes off and the gloom in Craig Pelton’s apartment sets in.

He’s turned off the light mobile.

They can barely make his figure fluffing up the pillows in the dark.

 

“I wasn’t always this person…” They hear Craig Pelton mutter.

 

Jeff picks up his phone and slouches into a fold-up chair a few feet away from him.

 

“My dad had very high expectations. I always did well in school, you know? But that degree was the closest thing that ever met them.”

 

His mind wanders. They wait for him to follow through, but he’s already lost in the story in his head.

 

“Pelton.” Jeff calls from his seat.

Craig Pelton blinks and pulls at the crumpled tinsel in his hands.

 

“Stephen and I were vying for everything, and back then, it wasn’t hard for me to be the A student. I mean, how hard can it be, right? There’s only this list you need to check out to be good at something, so I followed it. But then it got serious when I was gaining favor from the professors.”

“Hm. What could you have possibly done?” Jeff quips from his stupor.

“Well I surely didn’t monologue and piggyback my way through college like you, Jeffrey.”

“It definitely sounds better than hanky panky with professors.”

 

Summer bites her fist to stifle a giggle.

 

“IT’S NOT WHAT YOU’RE THINKING!”

“Then what is it?”  
“Stephen found out I cheated, okay? I’m a politician. I was popular. People trusted me, and I had access to everything. It was THAT easy.”

“Oh really?”

“When I was good, I was killing it, Jeffrey. Better than you ever could. You didn’t find me at my prime. You people came when I was coast-and-go-bust. Greendale was due for closure. Luis Guzman statue? Please. But when you people came, I started caring. There were suddenly people I cared about.”

“I thought Spreck was kidding about that statue.” Summer cut in.

“It’s bronze plated.”

 

Craig Pelton seems calmer.

 

“You guys are crazy.”

“Pot kettle black, honey.”

“So Spreck ratted on you and you still graduated?”

“My dad talked them into letting me take another year. By then, the trust was gone, and so was my interest in earning it. I barely passed the next time. As for Stephen, what really got to him was that they didn’t let him take over as valedictorian because even if he told them the truth, it was apparent to the discipline committee that his reason for ratting me out was he’s next in line, so that backfired. His batch only had a salutatorian. Still him, speech and all, but it’s not enough, knowing he could have been valedictorian.”

“Ouch.” Jeff cringes.

“I never fought back until recently because, I thought, eventually he’ll get over it…or forgive me…City College’s top notch under his tutelage. I’m a bumbling dean with nary a notch on my belt. That’s supposed to have been his revenge. What more could he possibly want?”

 

This is clearly going downhill.

 

“Didn’t you have a dog? Where’d you keep your dog?” Jeff clears his throat and whistles.

“Agatha Christie died of cancer months ago, Jeffrey.”

 

Jeff buries his face in his phone.

 

“What was she?” Summer asks.

“Saint Bernard. That’s why I was so excited that somebody besides Jeffrey’s coming over… Are you going to kill me in my sleep? That seems like a good way to go.”

 

Jeff reanimates from his corner and finally does his duty as Craig Pelton’s buddy to give him a little shake.

 

He has never had to do that before, and he never had to feel this way about Craig Pelton often. He’s concerned…and sorry.

 

It never occurred to him that Craig Pelton had to keep himself in check just so he can pull Jeff back in every time he jekylled, until now. He’s starting to realize that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to him when he should. Craig Pelton could have acted on his triggered depression if the irregularities have not clicked in Jeff’s brain in time.

 

Just when he’s feeling years of remorse for being apathetic towards Craig Pelton, he feels a hand on his abdomen.

 

…Then he remembers why he’s always annoyed with him, but instead of pushing him away this time, he gives Craig Pelton a pat on the head and sits him up.

 

Craig Pelton fixes his spectacles.

 

They look at each other for some time, a little melodramatic, but Jeff allows himself that for a moment.

Craig Pelton holds a hand up.

 

“You don’t have to say anything, Jeffrey.”

 

Craig Pelton’s face brightens and takes his phone from his chest pocket.

 

“Who wants pizza?”

 

He jumps up and excuses himself.

 

“What was that about?” Summer asks.

“Craig Pelton jekylled.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

 

She grabs her phone from where Craig Pelton was seated.

 

Jeff Winger’s busy with his phone again. He only lets himself be distracted when Summer plays something back. Craig Pelton did want to record everything.

 

_Her crusty exterior fails to hide that she still is just a kid…_

_…A kid…she’s almost as old as Annie, but unlike her, this kid’s really lost._

_She has crummy parents, and whatever Bob’s deal is, it’s not good enough to take care of this girl._

_With the decision to let Bob go, the Nipple Dip --_

 

Craig Pelton chokes as he sees Jeff’s annoyed face.

 

“Pizza’s coming in thirty minutes.”

 

Craig Pelton wasn’t far from the mark, though. He chose to help this kid…Abed made him choose to help this kid.

 

There’s something going on in that head of his, Abed. He came home seemingly still off-beat, but there’s a cloud of worry in his eyes that Jeff knows wasn’t there before. What the hell was he thinking when he called her name that night?

 

He mindlessly reaches out to Summer and gives her a pat on the head.

 

“You’re going to be alright.” He tells her.

 

She nods without looking up at him, but he didn’t see her wipe her face with her sleeve.

She stares at her cellphone for some time.

 

It’s tinny, and it’s choppy, but he could hear that Craig Pelton had turned on the audio recorder when she and Jeff were having their heated conversation.

 

“D’you think I should send this?”

“Hm?” Jeff craned his neck after being distracted from his thoughts.

“There’s probably nothing Spreck would hate more than a big fuck you from their token scholar.” He says after the question had sunk in.

“Is this over? Am I in?”

“The moment you signed the papers, you’re already accepted.” Craig Pelton chirped in.

“Like I said, we give you the tour with Abed and Annie on Monday.”

 

Craig Pelton takes out a black Tippmann TPX from under the shag rug and ceremoniously hands it over to her.

 

She doesn’t react until it sinks in.

 

“Shiny.”

 

Summer caresses it, her eyes wide, a smile creeping up her face.

 

“And this is considered a school supply.” She breathes.

“You have funds for this?!?” Now it’s her turn to ask.

“I’m Jeff Winger.”

 

As if that was enough to explain anything.

But he IS Jeff Winger. He just got her out of City College.

 

“Since you’re—as far as Greendale technicality goes—a noob, the only magazine loaded there is the only one you’re ever going to get from us. Everybody starts that way.” Jeff tells her.

“Bob said you have more ammo.”

“What’s the point if you can’t get creative?”

 

There’s a knock on the door and Craig Pelton hurries to open it.

Jeff returns to his phone, still busy looking for cheap living spaces near the campus.

 

“Smile.” Jeff holds up his phone and takes her picture while she’s unprepared. She’s holding the gun to herself like her life depended on it.

 

Jeff smirks and sends the picture to the rest of the Nipple Dippers.

She walks to the dark side of Craig Pelton’s apartment, cradling her new toy.

 

Craig Pelton walks in with five boxes of pizza and smiles at the sight.

“How’d you like me now, Summer Waite?”

 

Jeff takes a box of pizza and partakes of the whole pie, one big bite at a time.

 


	6. November 7, 2015, 18:00 hrs.

Bob sits, a little nervous, in the dark, half waiting for Summer to come home, half anxious of what Frankie Dart is doing in the City College campus.

 

She’s been waiting for him when he arrived at his and Summer’s little City College hovel. How she’d driven to City College without opposition and how she got inside their bolted housing are a mystery.

 

Frankie Dart is a fine lady, he knows.

He also knows that she’s changing the Greendale he’d been used to.

She’s straightening inebriated faculty and weeding out unneeded curricula.

In the few months she’d been at Greendale, courtesy visits to his little den in the basement were fewer in between. It won’t be long before job orders come into their office in sheets of paper and accomplishment logs need to be handed over to the nice old lady in Craig Pelton’s...Jeff Winger’s office, and sanctions will be implemented on those who’re less compliant.

 

This sneakiness can only mean bad business.

 

“Did you get her out of here?” He says. No use asking the obvious.

“We’re getting you out of here, too.”

 

She breaks her somberness and fumbles around the little light coming in from the window and looks for a switch to something brighter.

 

Bob turns on the lamp on a table beside him.

 

Frankie freezes.

She isn’t bad to look at in this light either.

She seems to notice the kind of attention he’s giving her and composes herself.

 

“You came all the way from Riverside to tell me that?” He grins.

 

She clumsily seats herself back.

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.

 

“I don’t think this is a fair exchange, Ms. Dart.”

“This isn’t an exchange. It’s been a long time coming, Bob.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Do you happen to have a little gadget attached to you that may record or stream this conversation?”

“Wanna frisk me for it?” He raises an eyebrow.

 

She’s not amused.

 

“Well, Bob, if you’re going to be super smug about this, I’m going to promise you that the next time you see your sister...”

“What are you going to do to her?”

 

Frankie grins at last.

 

“Relax. We’re not City College, but your next move is pretty obvious. We’re not stopping you from doing what we think you’re going to do; we’re just giving you options.”

“And those are?”

 

She flutters her lashes.

 

“Hm, let’s see. That –” She points to the door.

“—or this. Whatever this is.” She waves her hand around the housing.

“You do realize why I can’t spell it out for you.” Frankie crosses her legs and leans back.

 

Frankie Dart’s leaked e-mails aren’t telling of this side of her. Frankly he’s amused at how she’s evolved into this Winger-ish character in such a short time. Jeff seems to be a bad influence on her, and Bob kinda likes it.

 

Unfortunately, no matter how similar she is to Jeff right now, when she’s back in her office at Greendale, she returns to being Fix-it Frankie.

 

He wonders if she’s worth submitting to…

 


	7. November 9, 2015, 04:00 hrs.

Summer watches the other women and Craig Pelton fuss about Apartment 303 at four in the morning. She notices one curious thing about Britta…she’s wearing an orange striped beanie with ear flaps…if anything at all.

 

She subtly veers her attention to Abed, who’s calm despite ringing the alarm.

 

This is not the time for decaffeinated excitement, but Jeff knocked on Craig Pelton’s door because Abed texted something about Annie.

 

Summer wonders why she should be part of the welcoming party. She takes a mental note of the people in the room.

 

“Okay. She’s coming.” Abed announces from a cozy seat. He stands up and joins the rest of the Nipple Dippers, who have converged in front of the door to 303.

 

She watches them from the living room.

 

The fidgeting stops when they heard a car pulling over outside.

They turn their heads to the window.

A raggedy door closes, its hinges whining of old age, and the taxi’s exhaust sputtering ashen tuberculosis as it drives off.

 

Footfalls are getting louder from outside the door.

Everyone pays attention to it…except Abed.

 

He’s looking at her, and he smiles.

The corners of her mouth jerk positively.

He nudges his head towards the group, inviting her to come over.

She cautiously introduces herself into the fold.

 

The footfalls stop in front of 303.

Frankie Dart gasps prematurely and tries to gulp down her embarrassment.

 

They hear a jangle of keys…

 

…then a key being inserted into the keyhole.

 

Annie grumbles from outside.

Wrong key.

A low groan escapes from Jeff’s mouth.

The keys jangle, and another key is inserted into the keyhole.

 

It’s the right one this time.

 

She turns the knob.  


Summer looks at them as they hold their breath…and the door opens.

 

Suddenly everything’s Gaussian blurred and moving in a thousand fps.

Summer sees the girl…no—woman across the threshold.

 

There she is.

Annie Edison, bent over a duffel bag in her slinky black turtleneck dress and a brown leather jacket.

Prince’s _The Most Beautiful Girl in the World_ plays in her head.

 

She notices she’d been looking at her with her head tilted to one side like the others…except Abed. Apparently the laptop he’d left in the living room has been programmed to play Prince’s _The Most Beautiful Girl in the World_ in perfect time. She wasn’t dreaming it up.

 

“How long has that butt been there?” Craig Pelton nonchalantly muses.

 

Annie had looked up from her duffel bag. Her bluest eyes shift from tired to shining in a matter of seconds and she rushes towards the fray shrieking in childlike glee.

 

The others shriek in childlike glee in varying keys, too…that is, until she whizzes past them like they don’t exist and plucks Abed and fastens herself to him. Excitement falls to bewilderment as they watch from a considerable distance.

 

After catching up on the week they hadn’t been together like two deprived dogs finally let out to socialize in a dog park, they turned to the group.

 

“It’s one of our more successful bits on the workshop.” Annie appears to be talking to them, but the group still doesn’t realize this.

“We try to sneak this bit in every time Annie walks into any room.” Abed says.

“There’s a fail proof ten-second silence that comes afterwards.”

Abed points to her and nods.

“You mean Annie bends over every time she enters a room?” Frankie asks, and she’s dead serious. Jeff eagerly awaits an answer.

“No. Sometimes when there are double doors, we contract someone to open them at the same time, and she stands there like Lacey Chabert in _Not Another Teen Movie_.”

Abed nods to Annie, and she nods back and points at Abed.

“Actually we’ve taken every single Lacey Chabert entrance and incorporated it into everything.” She says.

“But instead of _I Can’t Fight This Feeling_ we used Prince.” She adds.

“Annie’s the Lacey Chabert of this decade.”

“Aw! Abeeeeed!” Annie’s eyes sparkle as they widen. Summer hasn’t seen that happen in real life before.

 

They get into a convoluted bit where Annie looks like she’s jerking Abed off…then he moos…

They bump each other on the hip, and then it happens…

 

 

The Nipple Dippers grimace upon seeing Annie’s fist smack onto Abed’s spindly arm. Frankie fidgets from where she is, but she doesn’t quite know if this is an act or if it’s real. Abed pretends like he’s not hurt and hits her back, but it’s clear he couldn’t deal any damage after that bone cruncher of a punch. He’s holding the charade up well.

 

“He wasn’t kidding.” Jeff audibly mumbles as he massages his own arm.

 

Annie inspects her arm and complains.

 

“That’s going to bruise! I could report you for domestic violence, you know?”

“YEAH!” Britta emphatically rallies from within the fold, but she gets disapproving looks from the others. She sticks her tongue out at them.

“Domestic violence goes both ways, David! Quit pummeling me with your meat fists!” Abed brings down an open palm in her general direction, aiming to hit Annie harder. Annie easily dodges.

“You punch like a girl!”

“You’re a girl and you punch like The Hulk! That doesn’t make sense!”

 

He finally groans, and curls up but not without indiscriminately slapping at her with his open palm.

She hits back.

Then they get into a wussy slapping fight.

 

The sleepiness starts to kick in and reduces Jeff into a disgruntled old man who has lost sleep. He breaks the fight up.

 

When Abed walked into The Vatican that first night, Summer thought she was being welcomed into a world she knew she might be comfortable existing in…but when Annie came in…she slingshots around them, spiriting Abed away, and forms her own satellite dragging a clunky piece of rock filled with confused Human Beings.

 

Abed somehow manages to distract Annie from the Nipple Dippers and points in her direction. Bubbly Annie at four in the morning wears a convivial smile on her face.

 

“You must be Summer! I was so excited to meet you! Abed wouldn’t stop talk –“

“I don’t like you.”

 

Annie’s face crumples into disgust, and she makes that noise that people make when they’re offended in movies that simplistic women like Annie would rent. She falls into the fold and gives them a look that says ‘can you believe this girl?’ These people happen to like that look a lot. She should practice it.

 

Britta fancies an accessory hanging around Annie’s neck: a sizeable unicorn cameo locket.

 

“I’ve never seen this before.”

 

Britta opens the locket to see what’s inside, but Annie grabs it from her and keeps it balled in her fist.

 

“It’s…Horsebot 3000.”

“He’s a hero in one of our shadow puppet presentations. We come up with new stories every Welfare Wednesday for kids at the local library.” Abed is obviously spelling it out for Summer.

“We created a schedule to keep something constant. You know how Abed is with change.”

“I don’t.” Summer says without a hint of irony.

“I was talking to Britta.”

“Ohoooookay! So! Annie! Tell me more about this alliterative day planning you’ve come up with in Chicago. Sounds progressive!” Britta escorts Annie and the rest of the Nipple Dippers away from her and Abed.

 

Summer can tell by the look in Annie’s eyes as she watches her with Abed that the dislike is mutual.

 

“You better get an ice pack for that thing she did to you.” She hears herself tell Abed.

 

He doesn’t resist being taken to the kitchen.

 

“You’re not going to talk me into liking her?” She asks after noticing him watching Annie from behind the kitchen counter.

 

He shrugs.  


“You’re not the only one. More than half of Greendale, if not all, hates us…not just her. Even we hate each other most times. The only person that Greendale has come to love out of all of us is Frankie.”

“She doesn’t look like a likeable person.”

“No, but she’s the first person in a long time who made students feel like they’re studying at a legit school.”

“Greendale sounds like a joke.”

“Yeah, but it’s the kind of joke that gets the same amount of laughs every time. It’s not a bad thing.”

“What do you think of your new dean?” She nods at Jeff.

 

Abed grins goofily as he looks at him.

 

“Cool. You got your gun?”

“Yeah.”

 

She grins goofily at Abed.

 

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

 

Annie has been throwing dagger eyes at them.

 

“What’s the deal with Annie?”

 

He ignores the question and, instead, puts a cigarette case on the counter. He holds onto it for a while, then leaves it.

 

“I want you to have this.” He says without a glance in her direction and then leaves the kitchen to join the others. Jeff had beckoned to him.

 

She opens it up.

There are bits of organized bric-a-brac: tiny chunks of eraser, cut up skinny straws, pieces of cardboard folded into little boxes with the names of the Greendale 7 on them. She doesn’t understand what this thing is, but it clearly meant something to Abed that he’s tentative about giving it away.

 

She mindlessly carries the ice pack with her and tucks the cigarette case in her pocket, listening from outside the circle. She’s just in time to see Jeff hand a leather box over to Abed, who inspects it and pries it open, but Jeff puts his hand on the lid.

 

“Not yet.” He says.

 

Then he turns to Annie and gives her a small bow.

 

“M’lady.”

“M’lord.”

“You haven’t forgotten.”

“It’s only been five months, Jeff.”

 

Frankie hands her sizeable alligator skin box.

 

…And she thought the way Craig Pelton handed her her school-issued paintball pistol is ceremonious. Still, she’s curious about what’s in that luxurious red box.

 

“Why’s her gun bigger than mine?” Abed asks.

“Well you haven’t seen what’s inside.” Jeff slyly burred.

 

Abed makes his suspicion known to the Nipple Dippers before he opens the box. Jeff grins as he covers his ears.

 

The box drops, and Abed lets out a whine akin to the soundtrack of television calibration bars.

 

He’s holding a DL-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol.

 

Summer understands Abed’s glee at getting his own paintball gun, but THIS gun?!?

 

She feels her lungs collapse at the sight of it.

 

“That’s retrofitted for paintball?” She breathily asks as she floats towards Abed and the Han Solo gun.

“Of course.” Jeff smiles. Cheeky bastard.

 

A galaxy not so far away fills Abed’s eyes like a child in the ‘70s seeing _Star Wars_ for the first time, his high-pitched whine ending with a  guttural “Ooooooooooh…”

 

He is distracted by Annie who has found her place on the floor. Tired, but excited, she opens her box. Abed hovers over her and waits to see what’s so special about Annie that she’d get a bigger box than him.

 

Annie wades through layers of gift-wrapping tissue and finally fishes out an E-11 Blaster Rifle.

Summer gasps and falls to her knees, raring to touch it.

Annie pretends like she didn’t notice her envy and casually turns away.

Summer watches her wistfully.

 

Annie props the rifle on her lap and examines the shaft, tickling it with her fingers like having a long, thick, black stick between her thighs has happened before. She squints her eyes and mouths “Ooooooooooooooh.”

 

Jeff audibly gulps.

 

Summer couldn’t feel the air coming in, and the last thing she remembers is hearing Britta object to this NC-17 display, Frankie grabbing the rifle from Annie, and her eyes rolling to the back of her head against her bidding.

 

November 9, 2015, 04:50 hrs.

 

Only minutes after Summer had fainted, friendly excitement breaks into pockets of tense situations.

 

Annie, Britta, and Abed are now bickering and Jeff has resorted to throwing half-hearted support for whomever from his corner. He had tried stopping the fray, and then getting into it upon learning that Abed had slept with Britta, but He’s getting too old for this kind of drama. He decides to go to the kitchen to see what curious thing Frankie has found in Annie’s duffel bag.

 

By the kitchen counter is Frankie, still busy unearthing disturbing amounts of prescription bottles from the bag. Apparently those are the only things she’d brought back from Chicago, apart from a bundle of clothes so neatly packed into her purse in a manner Frankie had never seen before.

 

“What the hell happened in Chicago?”

“Do you have anything there that can maybe knock me out? Not too strong. Just enough to wake up at seven?”

“Jeff, at our age, we only need to sit on something comfortable.”

 

Jeff agrees and heads for the other cozy chair. Summer’s hastily arranged at the other one, Craig Pelton at her side.

 

“Wake me up at six, Pelton.”

“I thought you wanted to be awake at seven?”

“The dean doesn’t make an entrance at school in the clothes he slept in.”

 

Craig Pelton holds his hands up.

 

Craig Pelton, has taken the responsibility of caring for Summer, fanning her in chilly November because that’s the only first aid he knows...that and handing a glass of water.

 

Summer blinks her eyes open and finally catches up with this commotion.

 

“How are you feeling, darling?” Craig Pelton hands her a glass of water.

“You want some coffee?”

“Aren’t we leaving?”

“Jeff’s our ride. He’s just decided to sleep. Maybe we should, too.” Craig Pelton looks around the apartment for a place to curl up in, and decides to curl up where he is anyway.

 

Frankie kneels beside her, slightly cautious.

 

“Are you okay?”

“Are you being nice to me because I said I didn’t like Annie?”

“It’s just a question.”

 

Summer nods, a little embarrassed.

 

“Jeff found you a new place. Bob has arranged for the move yesterday, so you should find yourself settled once we drive you there.”

"You didn’t have to.” Summer says quietly.

“The area’s not very friendly. Annie used to live there alone…or so he tells me –“

“We can hold our own.”

“I’m sorry. It’s the only place we can find on short notice. Jeff’s almost always on his phone even when he’s not texting anyone, so he’ll have something to do. I’m sure he’ll find you some place better. If you need any other help moving in, you can call any of us.” Frankie hands her a card.

 

Summer nods at her again.

 

Frankie finds Britta’s red couch and calls dibs on it. Abed’s on the ground unconscious.

 

“Okay, what did you do?” Frankie asks Annie.

“Nothing…”

“She voodooed him and Abed fell like a ragdoll.” Britta tells. Annie punches her in the arm. Britta holds her arm and tries to kick back, but Frankie wrestles them off of each other. She collects Craig Pelton from the ground, and they squeeze into Britta’s red couch.

 

Summer waits for them to really settle down...they’re being awfully nice all of a sudden…


	8. November 9, 2015, 01:15 hrs.

Left helmet head and right helmet head look at each other’s helmets for a time.

 

Comms had forwarded them a full transcript of Jennifer’s audio packet. That girl did not waste any time sending them intel…but had she intentionally sent that inaudible bit to them? She’s supposed to be smart and she should have known that they’ll try to figure out every sound made in that packet.

 

Left helmet head scratches his helmet.

 

“Is she messing with their brains, or OUR brains?” Right helmet head asks him.

 

Left helmet head shrugs at him.

 

“Patrol found their housing empty.”

“WHAT?!?!?!”

“Patrol checked in on Bob Waite this afternoon. Not a thing in there.”

“Does Spreck know?”  


Left helmet head shrugs again.  


“Doesn’t look like he cared about them anyway.”

“THE WAITES ARE AN ASSET!”

“Then he seriously should have treated them better, if you ask me.”

Right helmet head panics and starts running around the room looking for something…just something. Left helmet head chews on his sandwich.

 

“We’re going to get that girl back before Spreck finds out.”

“A copy of the transcript’s probably with him. If he wanted her back, then he’d be the one in here raining spit on my visor.”

 

This does not sit well with right helmet head.

 

“You’re making fun of me? You very well know that Spreck listens to me, and if he finds out you’re mocking the system, I’m pretty sure he won’t let you out of the room with that foot of yours.”

“Panic and paranoia are ingredients to self-destruction, my friend. I may lose my foot for being reasonably apathetic, if not pissed, but you could lose a lot of men, your job, and your life if you piss Spreck off by acting carelessly because you think you’re being a hero.”

 

Left helmet head leans back and puts the foot with the tracking device on the table.

 

“People would die to get out of here. You send them to Greendale on a whim, they’ll get beaten up, sure, but they’ll never hike the five miles back to City College.”

 

Right helmet head relents.

 

“By the looks of this transcript they’re letting her jump through too many hoops.” Left helmet head continues. “It’s confusing how they’re bent on taking her in, but they’re not showing her any trust. They just let her in for that Abed guy.”

 

Left helmet head licks his thumb and turns the pages of the transcript.

 

“She knows we’re going to slap her with a lawsuit.” Right helmet head points at the transcript.

“Actually, I really don’t mind her tearing Spreck apart in court—because she really, really could—but I love my foot, and for the sake of its safety I’m going to do my best to pretend that I give a fuck.”

 

Left helmet head points to the page where Summer talks about the ping.

 

“See? That right there is concern. She’s telling us, in her special way, to not do it because we’re really going to suck at court when that happens. It seems to me she’s still playing agent for us. I suggest we stay put. Now, tell me, o noble squire of the shire, why do YOU give a fuck?” Left helmet head asks right helmet head.

“Because City College is better than Greendale.”

 

Left helmet head hits right helmet head’s helmet with his boot.

 

“You gave into that shit? C’mon man.”

 

Right helmet head retaliates by using his baton on his comrade. Left helmet head kicks him in the balls.

 

“Five years ago, that was the truth. City College’s first foray into messing with Greendale was funny. Ain’t gonna deny that. But City College being better than Greendale ain’t the truth no more. This transcript tells me that Spreck’s just doing this because he didn’t get his cookie and he wants everyone else to suffer. There’s not going to be an end to this.”

“So what are you going to do? Right helmet head looks at left helmet head from the ground.

“I’m not going to do a damn thing but wait for Greendale to piss Spreck off so bad that he self-destructs.”

“And if I tell him about that?”

“I’m not going to hesitate sending over the city inspector over when you least expect it. I’m tired of Spreck. I’m tired of not getting paid for six years. Aren’t you?”

 

Right helmet head couldn’t find anything to say.

 

“Well thanks for enlightening me.”

 

Left helmet head swivels his chair to find Spreck by the door, holding a remote control. Left helmet head takes a deep breath and waits for Spreck to push a button.

 

He does…but it doesn’t blow his foot off.

 

Left helmet head jumps from his seat and hits Spreck in the face and chokes him.

 

Spreck reaches for the remote control. He looks at right helmet head.

Right helmet head assesses the situation.

Left helmet head knocks Spreck’s head on the floor.

Right helmet head nudges the remote control over to Spreck.

Left helmet head takes the remote control but Spreck takes left helmet head’s helmet off and hits his head with it.

Left helmet head slumps onto the ground.

 

Spreck stands up, brushes himself off, and pushes a button again. This time it works.

Right helmet head’s helmet whiplashes towards Spreck.

 

“See how kind I am? I blew his foot off while he can’t feel it.”

 

With the helmet covering his face, right helmet head just vibes off his ambivalence.

 

“Okay, he’ll feel it, but at least he didn’t see it get blown off.”

 

Spreck tosses the remote control onto the table.

 

“Go get a medic. Not 911. Get one of the nurses from the clinic or somebody there. And get a maintenance man to mop that up.” He waves his hand at the pool of blood. Right helmet head minimizes himself into a corner and radios the clinic.

 

“The man doth have a point, though. I guess the lawsuit’s out of the question.” He says to himself.

 

Spreck picks through the files scattered on the table and finds one that he likes.  


“Hmm.” He opens the folder and stares at the picture for a while.

“What’s the plan now, dean?” Right helmet head stands behind Spreck.

“Oh we’re not changing it. We’re still going to rip Greendale’s heart out, you know why?”

“Because when Greendale’s heart stops beating, Greendale will stop living, dean?” Right helmet head gambles.

 

Spreck gives right helmet head a pat on the helmet and laughs as he scatters Abed’s file on the table. He grabs a red Sharpie and marks his picture with a big heart. 


	9. November 9, 2015, 07:25 hrs.

Greendale’s entrance opens to a Human-less corridor.

 

Annie, Abed, Jeff, Craig Pelton, Frankie, Britta, and Summer stand there taking it all in.

 

“It’s empty.” Summer says.

“It’s seven twenty-five.” Frankie says.

“Imagine that. Jeff Winger’s coming into Greendale at seven twenty-five in the morning…before everybody else.” Annie and Abed do their cow-milking handshake.

 

“That’s not the best thing to see at seven twenty-five in the morning.” Jeff groans and snaps his fingers at Britta. She hands him a vacuum flask. Summer’s still curious about that orange beanie she’s wearing.

 

Jeff takes one step across the threshold…and the bell rings.

 

Students rush into the corridor from behind them, through corners, from the stairs, from different doors, all hurrying for Monday’s first class. Craig Pelton suddenly breaks away from them. “Don’t want to be late!” His voice disappears, absorbed by the pack of Human Beings he disappeared through.

 

Annie and Abed step in like it’s their first time, their fingers locked. Summer observes them from a distance, trying to see what they’re looking at in wonder.

 

“How new is everything since Pops stepped in?” She asked Frankie.

“Pops? Oh you mean Jeff?” She laughs a little too loud that the people in the corridor froze in disbelief.

“Oh god, that is rich. Pops!”

“Let’s not get carried away.” Jeff hands Britta the vacuum flask.

“Whatevs.” Britta walks ahead.

 

Frankie seems to like that a little too much.

“The walls get a lick of paint every now and then…well…more than a lick of paint.” She says.

 

Summer notices spots of color on the walls and almost everything. Greendale feels more like a special needs school than a college to her.

 

“You haven’t taken these out.”

 

Annie’s looking at one of the flyers on a bulletin board. There are faded wanted posters of the Asscrack Bandit still pinned on them.

 

“Still out there.” Jeff tells her.

 

Annie looks at Frankie. They weren’t kidding.

 

“What’s an Asscrack Bandit?” Summer asks.

“The Asscrack Bandit is to Annie as Saffron is to Mal.” Abed says.

“A welcome nuisance?”

“PEW!”

“OR a thing of the past.”

 

Annie shrugs and moves ahead.

 

Frankie explains the different offices to Summer as she hands her a pile of manuals while Annie and Abed reacquaint themselves with the place and the people.

 

“Hey. Look who’s back!” They run into Leonard. Annie and Abed rush to greet him.

“Look who’s still alive.” Jeff responds.

“You know you can apply for Seg-way use right?” Frankie chirps in.

“Those damn things won’t get me up the stairs. Try scheduling my classes on the ground floor, then I’ll think about it. Who’s the new broad?” He extends a hand towards Summer. She smiles and takes it.

“This is Summer Waite, she’s opening up a class next week.”

“Is it a class I can sleep in?”

“Shut up, Leonard.” Jeff droned.

“I’m running late for the seven thirty across campus.” He blows a raspberry and inches away from them.

 

Annie and Abed wave at Leonard until he rounds a corner. They grin until they turn red.

 

“Race you to the dean’s office!” Annie squeals, and they both run past Jeff.

 

“NO RUNNING IN THE CORRIDORS! YOU’RE NOT TWENTYSOMETHINGS IN A HIPSTER MOVIE, FOR CHRISSAKES!” Jeff rolls his eyes and slouches.

“They seem happy with it.” Frankie tells him.

“Five fucking months, Frankie, and I don’t get a thank you.”

“ ‘You’re pushing all the right buttons in my cockpit’ is a generous thank you from Abed, in case you didn’t pick up on that. And please watch your language, Jeff.”

“He wants a thank you from Disney.” Summer points out.

 

The PA system squawks and they hear Annie and Abed fighting over the microphone.

 

They look at the ceiling waiting for something to happen.

 

Abed drops a beat and Annie keeps the microphone close to her mouth

 

_“Now?...oh…You tell me when._

_Now? Okay._

_Yo. Yo. Yo…Yo._

_Check this out._

_This is Abed and Annie_

_And it’s seven thirty._

_We don’t care if you’re sleepy_

_Cause it’s time to study!_

_This serves as your coffee!_

_You get a double shot of_

_Rhymes from Annie_

_Here in the stu-di-o_

_We didn’t know our_

_PA’s so cool-i-o._

_This place has padding now._

_And we barge in like “Wow!”_

_“This place is so cool._

_Is this still our school?”_

_Shout out to Winger!_

_Greendale’s a dinger._

_Hey holy shit it’s November!_

_Why didn’t we come home sooner?_

_But hey bitches we’re back._

_And we all gonna have fun –_

_Hey – no!”_

There’s feedback and a few thumps and grunting over the system.

 

Jeff’s mouth is ajar and his head tilted as he listens to the scandalous sounds coming out of the speaker microphone. There’s some murmuring from security off mic.

“Nobody’s going to let that go for a long time. You’re going to need new suits, Winger.”

_“We’re just – OW! Okay! We’re leaving!”_

 

Annie’s complaining fades as she’s led out the door by security.

 

_“Go Human Beings.”_

It’s Abed, and it’s the last thing that comes out of the system before it goes dead.

“So! How are you liking Greendale so far, Skipper?” Jeff asks.

“I’ve only walked five meters along one corridor and met an old man.”

“I hate Mondays.” Jeff says under his breath. He snaps his finger for his vacuum flask.

“Britta just went for a refill.” Frankie tells him.

“Great.”

“TATER TOTS!” Annie’s voice echoes as she runs through the corridor intersecting theirs.

“TATER TOTS!” Abed follows.

“♫Hungy! Hungy! Me so Hungy!♫” Britta stomps her way through.

“Or maybe not.”

 

Jeff runs after them.

 

Frankie sees a question mark on Summer’s face.

 

“They run out quickly.”

 

That doesn’t answer Summer’s actual question.

 

“GO!” Frankie waves her off.

 

Summer dumps the manuals on Frankie and runs after Jeff. He navigates the hallway, out the building, into the Learning Resource Center in his leather shoes, pointing each area out as they pass them but never slowing down even when there are students around. This causes some confusion among the students who happen to not have a class at seven thirty, but it doesn’t take long before they figure it out.

 

Summer and Jeff exit the South Hall and sprint across the street.

 

Jeff glances behind him and sees a stampede forming behind Summer.

 

He extends his hand to her, and she catches up with him.

 

“Good cardio workout.” She comments between heaves.

“I know, right?”

“Good form.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

 

Jeff pushes the door to the cafeteria, and they’re met by a queue worthy of Hall H.

 

He scans the line for Annie, Abed, and Britta and found them already seated with a pile of tater tots on a plate. That freak announcement from Annie and Abed has roused some people from their classes as some faculty who bring lunch to work could be found in the breakfast line.

 

Jeff sighs of relief and smiles at Summer.

 

“How’d you like US now?”

“Jeff, may I remind you –“ Frankie has made it into the cafeteria without a huff.

“—To save some for you while we’re at it? The Nipple Dippers got you covered.”

 

Everybody laughs except Frankie and Summer.

Britta pulls Summer in while Jeff sits beside Annie and scoots some more for Frankie.

Frankie remains standing.

 

“Jeff, since you were instated as dean, we have agreed on fair use. No one, even the dean, is allowed to stockpile on coveted goods. If this behavior flew a year ago, it’s different now. This is unacceptable.”

 

Frankie steadies her gaze at Jeff.

Jeff tries to soften her resolve by making googley eyes at her.

Frankie clears her throat and shakes her head.

Jeff looks at Annie and Abed and sighs.

 

“Frankie’s right.”

 

Annie says “Aww.”

Abed says “Cool, cool, cool.”

 

He picks up a tater tot and gives it to Summer.

 

“You’re okay with that?” Jeff asks him.

“You don’t want to repeat what happened with the chicken fingers.”

“What chicken fingers?” Summer asks, still holding onto the tater tot.

“We used to have a chicken finger mafia, but that’s bridge over troubled water.” Britta popped a tot into her mouth. Summer looks at Jeff, confused.

 

Frankie finally seats herself beside Jeff and partakes of their spoils.

 

“You know we can make these AND chicken fingers, right?”

“But spoils taste so much better when they’re won.” Annie sighs. Abed points at her and they try to stand up and do their handshake, but Jeff holds Annie down.

 

“Not gonna happen.”

“It’s a little disturbing.” Frankie sincerely tells Annie before eating a tater tot.

“Our friends in Chicago find it amusing.” Abed tells them.

“Alright! Chicago friends! Abed branching out.” Britta holds up a hand up at Abed and he finally obliges, snake and all.

“Oh yeah. Abed and Britta handshake.” Britta celebrates.

“That was a high five.” Abed tells her.

“Abed and Britta high five.” She tries to transfer the snake to Summer.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. I’m twenty-five.” Annie marches to the other side and she sits on Abed’s lap. She offers him a hand, palm face down. Abed gets it immediately and they relapse into their original handshake. He tilts his head and gauges the feel of the handshake.

“This isn’t working.”

“No. It isn’t.” She looks at Jeff in defiance.

“The handshake’s our ‘thing’, Jeff.” Abed takes the tube of lip balm she’s giving him.

“Don’t try to fix people’s ‘thing’s, or else you break them.” Britta mantras.

“Are you sure THAT’S your only ‘thing’?” Jeff raises an eyebrow.

“Pop! Pop!”

Magnitude pops up at their table.

 

“POP! POP!” Everybody in the cafeteria pop-pops except Jeff.

 

“Abed and I have tons of ‘thing’s. Don’t think we don’t know which set of twins we are, Jeff.” She pops a tater into her mouth.

 

Jeff chokes on his embarassment.

 

“Excuse me?”

“Oooh! The empire strikes back!” Britta says raises her hand for a high five. No takers.

“Pop! Pop!” Goes Magnitude.

 

“POP! POP!” The cafeteria crowd goes.

“Pop! Pop!” Summer tries.

“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!” Britta puts her hand up again. Summer hits it and finally eats the tater tot Abed gave her.

“Hah. Funny. Britta, what is wrong with you?”

“Uh…duh-doy? I’m the worst. What could possibly be right with me?”

“Ooooh.” Annie holds a hand up for a high five.

“Nice.” Abed says.

“Weren’t you guys fighting just this morning? Jeff, you need to get back to work --” Frankie dumps manuals onto the table and starts opening them when the speakers suddenly cackle into life.

 

 _Daybreak_ plays, and Annie, Abed, and Britta hum along. 

 

“ _Good morning, Greendale_.” Real Neil’s sultry DJ voice dribbles like Play-Doh spaghetti out the speakers.

 

“ _It’s Monday, November 9, 2015_. ”

 

The mood in the cafeteria shifts instantly. Summer surveys the people in the tater tot line.

 

They’re tense and a little less interested in crispy baked potatoes. Jeff crosses his legs and plasters a grin on his face.

 

“ _First things first. Let’s welcome our esteemed new guest lecturer, Summer Waite.”_

Some people in the tater tots line buzz and look at Summer funny.

 

 _“Greendale Community College Film School has opened up a new elective for enrollment. To sign up or simply ask for more information, please proceed to the Administration building. Thank you_. _Meanwhile, Leonard has finally made it to his 7:30 class. Let’s give him a round of applause and a paper bag to breathe in. Seriously Leonard, you need to enlist for Seg-way service._ ”

 

Annie looks around and everyone in the room seem to know what’s going on.

 

“ _Now back to our regular programming. In lieu of welcoming back two of our very own after a lengthy summer in Chicago – Seriously? Who goes to Chicago in the summer?_ ”

 

Annie and Abed look at Jeff. He shrugs and takes a tater tot, looking smug.

 

“ _The weekly Purge is going to be a bit different this time_. _We’re giving our returnees a task, and the rest of Greendale…well, you know the drill. Anyone who gets shot is out of the game. First one to shoot any one of The Twins gets additional paid leaves – I repeat…LEAVESSSSSSS. That’s plural, ladies and gentlemen._ ”

 

Gasps brush the cafeteria air.

 

“ _Oh I know the faculty wants that. But let me tell you what the kids are going to get –“_

“Did you bring your gun?” Annie whispers to Abed. Abed shakes his head.

“ _The lucky shot…will get –“_

“The fuck Neil? OUT WITH IT ALREADY!” Says one tater totter.

“ _A full scholarship for the next semester --”_

 

Annie knocks on the table at Jeff. “Give me your guns.”

“Nu-uh.”

 

She glowers at him.

 

“Give. Me. Your. Guns.”

 

He hands them over. Annie whispers something in Abed’s ear. It doesn’t look like he likes what she’s saying. She explains some more, and the second time seems to sink in easier than the first.

 

“ _Look. I’m as surprised as you are.”_

 

The cafeteria is alive with the sound of reloading.

 

“ _Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Hold ‘yer horses Human Beings. I hear your guns cocking. We can’t leave our targets in the dark here.”_

“Jeff, what were you thinking?” Frankie takes out her guns and puts them on the table.

 

“ _Your only allies in the whole campus are secured in Study Room F. Oh…and what’s this? You’re not armed! How do you expect to escape the cafeteria when there are already a considerable amount of people in there in line for tater tots?”_

 

Annie catches Jeff texting on his phone.

 

 _“Not to worry. Since we’re not allowed to fire guns inside the library anymore because, you know, books and other library stuff are expensive, once you’re in the library, you can freely come up to our gorgeous Mariah to claim the key to Study Room F…let me tell you though…she’s not going to give it away that easily…if you know what I mean.”_ Neil snort laughs into the microphone.

_“Also, your loyal friends are still there to help you…but--”_

_Daybreak_ stops.

They can hear everybody in the cafeteria breathing heavily.

 

“ _The whole campus knows about The Dean. I hope you do, too.”_

“What’s with Pops?”

“Remember what I told you about ‘jekylling’?" Jeff leers at her.

“You said, ‘nevermind’.”

“Jeff turns into Tony Montana after ten minutes. Once the riot starts, Jeff’s a ticking time bomb.” Abed says, looking at Jeff, inspired. “Is this an elaborate proposal? Because, yes. I will definitely marry you, Jeff Winger.”

 

Annie punches Abed again and for a moment, the crowd cringes for him.

 

“Riot?”

“Everybody jekylls at the same time, and they can switch off at will. Jeff doesn’t.”

 

“ _Should The Twins make it to Study Room F in ten minutes or less…the prize is forfeit. HOWEVER…should The Dean jekyll before they get to Study Room F…”_

Bags and trays are dropped on the floor. Almost everybody’s holding a gun.

 

“ _It’s still on…even when The Dean is shooting at everybody. Well we’re going to wish he doesn’t have his BB gun with him right now because we’ll have to get him back to normal when that happens. No additional prize for that, though...except, you know, not getting shot with a BB pellet on the crotch.”_

“Jeff, this is uncalled for.” Frankie groans.

“ _Oh, and one more thing. Since The Twins still aren’t enrolled, you’re not allowed to shoot at each other because if you’re thinking of doing that, then you’re selfish dicks and you will hear no end of it from all of us.”_

“Neil’s going down for inappropriate language.” Britta chuckles.

“I told you they wouldn’t let us.” Abed says.

Annie rolls her eyes.

 

“ _So…Human Beings…your time…_ ”

 

The Nipple Dippers look around. All eyes are on them.

 

“What’s happening?” Summer looks at Jeff. Few people in the room are looking human now.

“Oh, you’ll see.” Jeff grins.

“ _Starts…_ ”

 

They’re moving closer. Annie checks the people in her vicinity. Guns are slowly raised, ready to shoot at them.

 

“Everybody knows we’re here.”

“We need an exit plan.” Abed’s eyes scan the table. His mind’s on overdrive now.

 

A painful lull falls on everybody.

They’re waiting for it.

Eyes dart amongst The Nipple Dippers.

Jeff speaks with a voice exhumed from his gut. A smile spreads on his face.

 

“Welcome to Greendale Community College, Summer Waite.”

 

“ _Now_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued in There Will Be Seven: Eastern Perspectives on Western Cinema


End file.
